


how can we not talk about family when family's all that we've got

by thekaidonovskys



Series: we found love in a hopeless place [8]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Dom Clint Barton, Dom Steve Rogers, M/M, Sub Bucky Barnes, Sub Phil Coulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:25:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4680206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekaidonovskys/pseuds/thekaidonovskys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil's always been important to the team. For as long as they've been a team, he's been in their ear, by their side, and cleaning up the mess they leave behind. They may have taken him for granted sometimes, but they've never missed the fact that he's there and he's important.</p><p>Submissive Phil has impacted them all in an entirely different way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have only truly started seeing recently,” Thor says. “While some aspects of your world are visible from the outside, much is too private for me to witness."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set the day after the events of 'you know it can get hard sometimes' in which Thor was rather confused about Phil not being present when he was definitely in the room. As Bruce mentioned, Thor has questions.
> 
> (This chapter is basically world-building. I LOVE world-building.)

A calm, happy and verbal Phil enters the apartment, switches his work clothes and persona for his comfortable home attire, then winds himself around Clint. “Hi,” he says, once he’s done kissing him. “Can we go talk to Thor?”

“You know I don’t like you thinking about other men when you’re kissing me,” Clint teases. “Is this about yesterday?”

Phil nods. “I know he has questions for us - but I think he also has questions in general. Thor’s introduction to the dynamic of our world confused him initially, and I was wondering today whether he’s actually received a satisfactory explanation at all.”

“They don’t have Doms and subs on Asgard, do they?” 

“I think they still exist, but it isn’t as prevalent, and society isn’t built around it. There’s no alignment or rank testing.”

Clint leads him out of the room and to the lift. “Thor tested when he arrived, didn’t he?”

“SHIELD wanted a full profile, yes. Very low Dominant tendencies - I think it was a thirty-three from memory.”

“Almost neutral, then. And since I’ve heard Jane and Nat get into some fierce conversations about refusing to give in to the rank-based inequalities of the world, I think Thor’s had very little personal experience with the dynamics.”

Phil, who has heard Natasha’s arguments several times himself (and who fought for her to be removed from any Dom on Duty lists in the field), nods. “That's why I wanted to talk to him pretty quickly. He’s got questions, and I want to be the one answering them." 

“That’s fair. I’ll just remind you to not divulge anything particularly personal and private about our relationship if you can help it - keep it as general as possible.”

“Of course.”

A quick check with JARVIS informs them that Thor is in the main kitchen, and they catch him just as he’s leaving. “Hello, my friends,” Thor says with his usual cheerful grin. 

“Hi, Thor,” Clint says, and nods towards a small entertaining room with a door. “Can we take some of your time.”

“But of course,” Thor agrees, and follows them in. “Is there a concern?”

“No concern,” Phil says as he shuts the door, then sits down next to Clint and across from Thor. “Just a follow up. Bruce said you have some questions about yesterday?”

Thor nods, and jumps straight in. “He tried to explain how your physical presence did not mean your mental presence, but when I questioned the location of your mind, he told me to ask you.”

Phil tries not to smile. Of course Bruce would pass the hard questions along. Luckily he’s come prepared with an example. “When you were in Asgard,” Phil begins, “did you ever have days when royal duties were too tiresome for you? When you just wished that people would stop demanding your presence, that you could be just like a normal citizen?”

“Of course. But you are not a prince, Son of Coul.”

“I’m not,” Phil agrees. “However, I am someone whose time is highly demanded. When I’m at SHIELD, I have to be a certain person. I can’t be a normal citizen - especially not my version of normal, which is being with Clint. I have to put on my public face.” Thor nods in understanding at that, and Phil smiles. “Sometimes, when the public face comes off, it’s not enough to just return to the Phil that you all know. Sometimes I need to be… less myself. Sometimes I can’t even give my presence to my friends." 

“But if that is the case, why not leave the room altogether?” 

“Because there’s something so… _blissful_ , in sitting in a room with people and not a single person wanting to talk to you.” 

Thor frowns. “You don’t wish for your friends to speak to you?” 

“Normally, of course I do. But when I’ve had a whole day of people demanding my attention and words, to sit with friends who don’t _need_ me, who just like to have my company but don’t need anything from me, that’s what helps.” 

“I think I begin to understand,” Thor says. “You wish for your presence to be desired, not expected? That your friends will welcome you on whatever terms you need to be welcomed?” 

It’s about as close as they’ll get. Phil nods. “So when Clint said that I wasn’t there, of course I was, but I wasn’t there for anybody to ask anything of me.”

“And what if someone had a matter of urgency to speak with you on?” 

“Then they would tell Clint, who would then talk to me.” 

“So Clint is allowed to speak to you when others aren’t?”

Phil smiles. “Clint is my Dominant. He’s allowed to do many things that others aren’t. He wouldn’t speak to me if I’d asked to be ignored unless it was important, but if he chose to speak to me then I would be fairly obligated to acknowledge him.”

Thor looks between the two. “What recourse would you have if he spoke to you when you didn’t want to be spoken to?” he asks. 

“I have rights,” Phil says. “If Clint tried to engage with me past a point that I was comfortable, I could simply have left the room and taken some time for myself.” 

“If he had followed?”

“I could ask for time alone.”

“If he said no?”

“If it really mattered, I’d use my safeword. That indicates to Clint that I’ve reached my limit and I need him to back off, nonnegotiable.”

“And if he didn’t?”

“Then Phil leaves me, immediately,” Clint says sharply, then softens his tone. “I apologize, Thor. I know you’re still getting used to how this works. But a safeword is not something that ever gets ignored. If I ignore Phil telling me that he feels unsafe, and push him to do something, then I am unfit to be his Dominant, and he needs to leave the relationship.

“Are you not bound by contract?”

“This is in the contract,” Phil explains. “If a safeword is used, it is not ignored. If it is, the contract is dissolved. And Clint is not cruel. If I truly wish to leave, regardless of whether he’s given me cause to or not, he will allow me to.”

“We write our own contracts,” Clint adds, “but there are certain things we have to have in there under the law, for Phil’s protection. Safeword respect is a big one, as well as other clauses that give Phil rights and recourse if he’s treated badly. And on top of that, Phil and I sat down, right at the beginning, and talked out all the important things and made sure we were both happy with what we were signing. Phil has plenty of outs, as do I, but the important thing is making sure neither of us have to use them. We’re bound by contract, but it’s really only there as a legal requirement and for safety if the worst were to happen. We don't live by the law and letter of the contract, because that would be pretty horrible. We live how we want to, and that happens to fall within the boundaries of what we agreed upon."

Thor nods slowly. “I understand a marriage contract, but that does not obligate one to strictly obey the recited vows, only legally binds the two in a union. What is your level of binding?”

“Legally, similar to marriage,” Clint says. “We are each other’s next of kin in emergencies - which we actually were anyway before this, out of convenience. The only major difference is that, outside of SHIELD, Phil would have less say over things like medical decisions. If I were unconscious and they needed permission to perform surgery, for example, Phil’s word alone wouldn’t be enough. He’d need a written statement from me stating that I give him control over those decisions.” 

“You would not require the same?” Thor asks.

Clint shakes his head. “As the Dominant, it’s assumed that my word is law. In fact, if Phil were refusing treatment and I said he was to receive it, a lot of places would still take my instructions over his.”

“But that’s not really an issue with us,” Phil says. “All medical decisions are made within SHIELD, and within SHIELD I’m Clint’s superior and have been his medical proxy for years. My word goes.”

“And that’s the way I like it,” Clint says. “But yeah - not quite marriage. That said, even if we were married, Phil still wouldn’t have equal standing in the eyes of the law unless he renounced his status as my submissive and became solely my husband. If I married him as my submissive, he’s still… lesser.”

Clint pulls a face as he says that, and Thor nods understandingly. “You do not see him that way.”

“God no. I mean, apart from not thinking that at all about _any_ submissive, this is Phil Coulson we’re talking about. You think he’s less of a person than anybody? He’s _more_ of a person than most people I know.”

Phil valiantly tries not to blush, especially when Thor wholeheartedly agrees. “Once I learned of your customs, I was rather surprised to learn of your Philip’s submissive status. Based off the information received, and the interrogation received, I would have classed him as a Dominant human.” 

It’s Phil’s turn to pull a face. “No offence,” he says quickly, and Clint chuckles. “But no way am I a Dom. I can do authority and command at work, because that’s a whole other world and it feels like just about everybody wears a different face at SHIELD than they do at home. At home, though, I’m a sub. It’s who I am.”

“So for most, it seems very clear cut,” Thor says. “One or the other.”

Clint nods. “You’re familiar with the ranking scale? Most people are either above seventy-five or below thirty-five, those being the official cut-off points for ‘strictly Dominant’ or ‘strictly submissive’. Between thirty-six and seventy-five is the neutral or switch area. Technically from thirty-five to forty-nine is ‘Dominant tendencies’ and fifty-one to seventy-four is ‘submissive tendencies’, but you usually find between forty-five and fifty-five are the ‘true neutrals’. And they’re quite rare. I’ve only met a couple myself. Phil?” 

“I know three. But Steve’s friend, Sam, is an absolute rarity - he’s exactly fifty. I haven’t talked to him myself, but I believe what it means is that he has no inclination towards either and just has a vanilla relationship.”

“Vanilla?” Thor asks.

Phil looks to Clint, who laughs a little. “Yeah, okay. Vanilla basically means that there’s no Domination or submission, both in lifestyle and in the bedroom. A lot of people in the neutral area tend to forego collaring and such, and only occasionally play in the bedroom. Same for Dom-Dom and sub-sub relationships - like Tony and Pepper. Neither submits for the other, but I think they take it in turns to be the bossy one in bed. Not that I want to think about their sex life.”

Thor laughs. “My Jane and I have agreed that we do what we please with no mention of our rank.”

“Sounds like a good way to be,” Phil says. “Even within traditional relationships, there shouldn’t be a huge amount of emphasis on ranks - especially not perfect matching.”

“Perfect matching?”

“Where ranks should be the exact same amount from true neutral at opposite ends of the scale - if I were an eighty, Clint should be a twenty to counter and complement my level of submissiveness. As a ninety-five, I would have great difficulty finding a five in the first place, and there’s no guarantee we’d be compatible. There’s some truth in perfect matching - I don’t think I’d do well with a Dom ranked near neutral, for example - but the point is not to let it limit yourself from trying. Or else I wouldn’t have Clint.” 

“And you couldn’t find a more perfect match,” Clint says with a smirk.

Phil rolls his eyes at Thor, who chuckles. “Any other questions?” Phil asks. "And I'm sorry - I should have arranged for you to be able to receive further information once you started seeing more of what our world is like."

“I have only truly started seeing recently,” Thor says. “While some aspects of your world are visible from the outside, much is too private for me to witness. I have seen displays in public that have confused me - the custom of leading a submissive human on an animal leash is one I have yet to understand.” 

“You and me both,” Phil says with feeling, and Clint chuckles, but brushes his thumb softly along the back of Phil’s neck to make it clear he isn’t poking fun at Phil’s limit. Phil appreciates it. “Some people just like it, is all. It’s an expression of ownership.”

“Such as the collar?”

“The collar could perhaps be likened to a wedding ring,” Clint says. “So many people wear them, it’s common to see - but also common not to see. And most collars aren’t flaunted in the same way that things like leashes are. Phil’s is hardly seen by anybody except me.”

Thor nods. “Those things I am more used to. I do not feel the same desire towards them, but I see they are a part of much of your society. But the more private… such as the way you kneel for your partner. It is different to the kneeling I have seen outside.” 

“It can be very intimate,” Phil says quietly. “My submission is a combination of my natural instincts and desires, and my strong affection and love for Clint. I could go to my knees for anybody if I needed to - I go to my knees for Clint because it’s one of the ways I show love. Being on my knees not only gives me pleasure, in that it satisfies the desire I have to be there, and not only gives _Clint_ pleasure, in that the Dom in him takes satisfaction from having a submissive at his feet, but also gives us both… happiness. Because I love Clint to the point where I want to go to my knees for him, because it’s where I go when I feel happy and safe and wanted. He makes me feel that way.”

Clint’s hand, still at Phil’s neck, is trembling, and he doesn’t speak. Thor, sometimes shockingly tactful, focuses completely on Phil, allowing Clint a moment of privacy. “Seeing the love attached has been good,” Thor says. “It has shown me much.”

“How does it work on Asgard?” Phil asks. “I understand that dominant and submissive tendencies are not a deciding factor in how society works?”

“Not at all. Some engage in them in their relationships, but that remains private. The only ranking we have is royalty - if you are born royal, you will rule.” 

“Similar to the old beliefs about dominance,” Phil murmurs. “But that’s more because Dominants are more… well, dominant, obviously. They’re more inclined to be the rulers and authority figures because of their personalities.”

“We too have those who have dominant personalities,” Thor says with a nod. “But it is not the same. People are simply people, unless they are born into favourable circumstances, or make their own ways there.”

“Tasha would love it,” Clint mutters, and Phil chuckles, glancing at him. He receives one intense look of _you’d better believe you’re getting rewarded later for those comments_ , then Clint smiles and looks back at Thor. “I won’t get into a debate about whether our society is good or not. But I don’t think people will ever just be people - we’re working towards better rights for subs and the like, but it’s still _for subs_. As long as we have the ranking system, there’s a distinction.”

“And the distinction isn’t necessarily bad,” Phil adds. “It’s how that information gets used that matters.”

Thor nods again, looking between the two of them for a moment. “Question?” Clint asks.

“I have been instructed to use tact when addressing the matter of age with anybody.”

Phil laughs. “Don’t worry, I know I’m old. You’re wondering how it works when I’m seven years older than Clint?”

“It is more about his names for you. Is it not demeaning to be referred to as a boy, not only by one younger than you, but at your age regardless?”

“By anybody else, yes; Clint, no. Because anybody else calling me that would be indicating that I’m juvenile or inferior compared to them. But when Clint calls me his boy… it means I’m _his_ submissive. It means he’s proud of me, proud to call me his, and proud to have me as I am - submissive. It’s a way of underlining that yes, I’m at the bottom of the ladder when it comes to the power imbalance going on, but he loves me _because_ of that. He loves me as his submissive, as the person he has control over, because we have both consented to having him in control of me and we both like it.”

“And it isn’t just that I call him _boy_ ,” Clint adds. “He’s my sweet boy, my darling boy, my beautiful boy - and my boy who is currently smiling like a moron.” Phil swats at him, ducking his head to try to hide said smile. “It’s about cherishing him within that power imbalance, showing him how much I love that he submits to me and respect him for it. And if Phil had a problem with it, for the age thing or just because he didn’t like it, we’d find something else. I have _so_ many pet names in my repertoire.”

“He’s really not kidding.”

“There was surprise that either of you would be what is referred to as _sweet_ ,” Thor says. “But seeing the two of you together, it seems that there could be no other way for you to be.” 

Phil’s smile softens. “That’s what love does,” he says, aware of how cheesy he sounds. “Often the people who have to have the toughest exteriors are the ones who embrace affection the most when they have a chance at it. Clint and I can be…”

“Incredibly mushy?” Clint offers.  


“Yes, thank you,” Phil says dryly. “And that may be a surprise, and very different to what people are used to, but it’s how we show love. Something neither of us got much of a chance to do before we found each other, and something we make the most of now.”

Thor nods. It has a feeling of finality. Phil’s gotten used to Thor’s methods over the years and, while he’s sure that Thor still has many questions, for now he has enough information to go away and sort through his knowledge and begin to understand. 

“So what’s your final conclusion?” Clint asks. “At least for now.”

Thor thinks for a moment. “I do not understand why you are instructed on who to be with based on these Dominant and submissive traits,” he says, “but I see that many of you do not understand that either. Many seem unhappy in their relationships… but many in Asgard are as well, if they have chosen wrongly and not yet realised that they have the choice to leave. That is not unique to your Earth. I can only conclude that if a human treats another human well, then their relationship is a good one, whether it follows the conventions of your world or not. I do not judge the success of your relationship on whether you are conventional, I judge it on whether you are kind to one another and happy together. You are kind,” he says to Clint, who smiles, “and you are both happy. That is all I need to know.”

And for all the confusion Thor often gets himself involved in, sometimes it really is that simple.

“Feel free to come to us for any further questions,” Phil says, and Thor nods again, before standing and departing. Perhaps for him the conversation is simply finished, or maybe he’s caught something in their eyes that shows that it's time for him to leave. Either way, it’s appreciated.

“Well then,” Clint says. 

Phil turns to look at him, smiling. "Wild ride," he says, and Clint nods with feeling. "But then, I expected that."

"Oh, same. Thor's a great conversational partner, as long as you're prepared to think hard. And he comes out with some... lovely things."

“You're kind, we're happy," Phil says softly. "That about sums it up, doesn’t it?”

“Well, almost. We’re both happy, and I hope I’m kind… but Thor didn’t mention how good you are. That definitely matters.”

Phil lowers his eyes, wondering if he’ll ever stop blushing at casual praise. Probably not. “I think Thor was trying to compare it to a vanilla relationship,” he says. “Being good probably isn’t a concept he thinks of as a quality in a partner.”

Clint shrugs. “It should be. Because you’re not just good for _me_ , when I ask you to be, you’re good _for_ me. You make me a better person and encourage me to try harder because I deserve better. Everybody should have a partner like that.”

“You’re just as good for me,” Phil murmurs. “Probably better.”  


“Nobody’s better than my sweet boy,” Clint says, all quiet and staggeringly honest, and there goes Phil’s blush again. “But if you insist, then I’ll accept being the best. I don’t know if you know it, but I have completely changed your life for the better.”

And there goes Clint’s sense of humour again, perfectly timed to add well needed lightness to the conversation. “I couldn’t agree more,” Phil says lightly. “I think it all began when, in realizing that expecting me to follow your orders at home means respecting my authority at work, you started completing your paperwork fully and on time. Much better quality of life now.”

“Nobody’s snarkier than my sweet boy,” Clint says, “and I shouldn’t like it as much as I do.”

“You sound like Steve.”

“You know, I’m really starting to worry about how much you think about other Doms when we’re having alone time. Is there something you need to tell me?“ 

Throwing a cushion at one’s Dom probably isn’t the best behaviour in the book, but it feels _so_ good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Steve (because before Bucky arrived, we know he had some bad days. Sometimes Phil helped.)


	2. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Phil," Clint calls after a moment. Phil's already halfway there, and he's pretty sure what to expect - but it still hurts to see Steve standing there, looking tired and forlorn. "I think you're needed," Clint continues when Phil steps up beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set some time between 'in my mind I'm running around a cold and empty space' and 'wait for me to come home'. In the former, Clint made Steve an offer, and allusion was made about Phil having made good on said offer in the latter. This is one of those times. 
> 
> (This is also an excuse for more backstory. See previous note about worldbuilding.)

It's an ordinary Sunday afternoon, Phil slightly hazy and very relaxed at Clint's feet, when there's a knock at the door. Phil sighs, pressing his forehead to Clint's knee momentarily, then sits back, blinking a few times to try and get his focus back. "JARVIS, ask them to wait," Clint says, and squeezes Phil's shoulder. "Don't rush it, baby," he murmurs.   
  
"I'm okay," Phil says honestly. "Wasn't that far down."  
  
Clint still waits until Phil's entirely back up, which ends up taking longer simply because of how warm and safe it makes Phil feel. Clint never leaves Phil alone if he's even the slightest bit near subspace, which is both very sweet and very responsible - more responsible than Phil's used to someone being about his wellbeing. Sometimes the depth of Clint's love still staggers him.   
  
"Okay," Phil says once he's clear-headed, nodding towards the door. "Want me to get that?"  
  
"No, I'll go."  
  
Clint goes. Phil stands and stretches, a little disappointed to be back from what promised to be a slow slide down to a very good place. "Who is it, JARVIS?" he asks.   
  
_"Captain Rogers,"_ JARVIS says, just as Clint opens the door.   
  
"Phil," Clint calls after a moment. Phil's already halfway there, and he's pretty sure what to expect - but it still hurts to see Steve standing there, looking tired and forlorn. "I think you're needed," Clint continues when Phil steps up beside him.  
  
"Only if it's not an imposition," Steve says.   
  
Phil looks at Clint, who nods. "If you're okay to go, I'm fine with it."  
  
"Yeah," Phil says, and kisses Clint on the cheek. "Thanks. I'll be back later."  
  
"Take your time," Clint says, then looks at Steve. "And you take care of him. He was starting to go down, let me know if he can't stay focused and I'll come get him."  
  
"I will."  
  
Phil would normally be unimpressed by Clint's insinuation that Phil can't take care of himself, but he knows better in this case. This gives Steve a way to feel like he's doing some good, not just taking what he needs from Phil without offering anything in return.   
  
That's kind of exactly what is happening, though, but Phil doesn't mind. Steve needs some help right now, and Phil's just glad he's asking for it - and hopeful that he can provide what Steve requires.   
  
***  
  
 _They sit down at the table to talk it out; Steve on one side, Clint and Phil on the other, and Phil at the ready to take notes because Clint has promised they'll do this properly and Steve agrees._  
  
 _"First things first," Clint says, "Phil's voice matters the most here. If he says no, it means no."_  
  
 _Phil has to smile. "I don't think there'll be a lot of saying no," he says. "He's not exactly asking for a lot. But I promise I'll speak up if I disagree with what you're proposing."_  
  
 _"Let's just lay out what's definitely a no," Steve begins. "No dominating, obviously. No orders, no getting Phil to do anything for me, no scenes. He's going to be there as a sub, but not my sub."_  
  
 _Clint nods. "I'll set down my limits on top of that. Physical touch will be necessary, but please keep intimacy out of it. Hugs only. And I'm rather partial to... pet names. So if you wouldn't mind not -?"_  
  
 _Clint's staring fixedly at the table and clearly trying not to blush. Phil doesn't even hide his grin as he gently nudges Clint's shoulder with his own. "I don't want them from anybody else either," he says. "You have more than enough for me on your own."_  
  
 _Steve's smiling too. "No pet names," he promises. "Can I tell him he's good, though?"_  
  
 _"If he's comfortable with that, sure." Clint turns his attention to Phil. "Limits, sweetheart?"_  
  
 _"Nothing we haven't already discussed. Just - times when I don't feel like I can go?"_  
  
 _"Always respected," Steve says. "And you never have to explain why."_  
  
 _"What about times when I'm fine, but I feel like Clint needs me more?"_  
  
 _Clint sighs. "You know I'll insist that you should go with Steve, but I'll respect that call if you make it."_  
  
 _Phil nods. "Then that's it for me."_  
  
 _"Anything else?" Steve asks. "Or is that it? Do we just..."_  
  
 _Clint smiles. "That's it. Come when you need to, Steve. Have him, hold him, and hopefully get some good out of it."_  
  
 _And that's it. That's how it begins._  
  
***  
  
Phil follows Steve to the lift, and they make the short trip in silence. Once they're in Steve's living room, Phil stands still, bows his head, and waits. Steve has no power to order him to do anything, but he usually has particular requests for how he can best get the comfort he needs, and Phil waits to hear what Steve wants.   
  
"Have a seat," Steve offers, gesturing to the seat next to him, and Phil sits down. "Mind if we just go for the usual?"  
  
Phil smiles and shifts closer. He knows exactly what the usual is, and he has no problems providing it - it's what Clint offered when they first discussed the arrangement, after all. "Go ahead," he invites, and relaxes deliberately when Steve wraps his arms around him and draws him close. "Good?" he asks once they're settled.  
  
"Yeah," Steve says, relaxing a little too. "Yeah, that... helps."  
  
Phil nods and stays quiet. When they're like this, he doesn't speak unless requested, leaving it open for Steve to lead the conversation or enjoy the silence. Sometimes Steve just needs a body to hold, and Phil's happy to be that.   
  
Today, it isn't what he needs. After a few minutes, Steve sighs and holds Phil a little tighter. "I don't know," he says. "House just feels a bit too empty right now. Talk to me?"  
  
"Sure," Phil says. "Anything in particular?"  
  
"Could you tell me a story?"  
  
"What would you like to hear?"  
  
Steve thinks for a moment. "If it isn't too personal... what were you like as a kid? Or a teenager. Just - that's when I met Bucky and I know you're so different from him, but I'm just curious."  
  
Phil smiles. "You may be surprised," he says, "but I was extremely shy."  
  
"I'd be surprised if I hadn't seen how you react when Clint praises you," Steve says, a clear smile in his words. "You go all quiet and red."  
  
Phil fights the urge to do just that. "I was definitely quiet," he says. "Well behaved. Obedient... but not to a fault. I wasn't quite prepared to let people push me around, no matter how shy."  
  
"Some things never change. Did you threaten violence back then too?"  
  
"No," Phil says, rolling his eyes since Steve can't see. "I had a standard phrase - _you're making me feel uncomfortable_. Said quietly, but firmly, and with just enough of a promise that if they didn't back off, I'd scream. Most teenage Doms were either trying to work out how to give orders that didn't upset subs, or trying to find someone they could boss around and walk all over. Neither of that type were prepared to deal with me getting upset - which is good. I didn't exactly have many rights back then."  
  
"Yeah," Steve says, with a tone that indicates he knows only too well. Phil knows he actually knows far worse - at least Phil had _some_  rights, compared to the none that subs had back in Steve's day. "I'm glad you looked after yourself. Were you... looked after as well?"  
  
"On occasion, yes. Not as much as I could have been. Apparently I was  -" Phil coughs, tries not to blush or laugh or whatever his weird response is going to be, " - quite desired."   
  
Steve laughs. "Oh, I bet you were. All those hormonal teenage Doms faced with a very shy, very subby sub? How many Doms did you have?"  
  
"Three," Phil says, "and a neutral."  
  
"Huh."  
  
Phil smiles. "Can't imagine me with a neutral?"  
  
"To be honest, no."  
  
"It didn't last," Phil confesses. "Well, obviously. But it didn't last long at all - a few weeks, after we'd both gone through breakups and I'd sworn off Doms like I seemed to do every other week back then. We wanted companionship, settled for friendship, and learned some things about ourselves in the process."  
  
"Does every teenage sub go through the phase of swearing they'll never let someone dominate them?"  
  
"I think so," Phil says, chuckling. "Of course, some of us take that to extremes and don't settle down properly until we're in our fifties, but the teenage rebellion is pretty standard once we work out what being a sub really is about. And the subbiest rebel the hardest."  
  
"Bucky sure did," Steve says fondly. "Actually only agreed to go out with me because he wasn't gonna let some beefy, punk ass Dom dominate him, but I was a scrawny little shit and he could push me around if he needed to. Of course, by the end of the night I had him calm and docile at my feet, promising to be a good boy if I'd keep him. He broke the promise, but then again I didn't end up being someone he could push around, so neither of us were who the other thought we'd be at the start - and it was much better that way."  
  
Phil nods. "Similar with Clint," he admits. "I was expecting... sterner. I never thought he wouldn't be kind, but I didn't expect just how sweet he turned out to be. And likewise, I don't think he expected me to be as subby as I am. But we're well suited."  
  
"That you are." Steve's quiet for a moment, then - "Do you ever wish he were sterner?"  
  
Phil shakes his head. "Clint's a good Dom just as he is. His orders are based on meeting my needs and making sure we're both happy, and anything sterner would be for propriety's sake, which is pointless, and since we're talking about the past is also quite a young Dom thing to do."  
  
"Orders for the sake of orders. Trying to learn how to assert authority but being too afraid to ask for anything serious."  
  
"The teenage years," Phil says with faux nostalgia, and they both laugh.   
  
"Really, though," Steve continues, "young Doms are taught so little. They think that because they give orders, they're the ones in control and the sub just does what they say because they say so. They don't understand how much power subs hold."  
  
"Subs aren't taught that either," Phil says quietly. "Or at least they weren't back in my day. We were told it was an honour for us to be chosen by a Dom, that we had to behave and their orders were law and subs lived to serve. Especially 'those' subs... and even before we got our ranks, most people knew who they were. The ones who were destined to be kept and never have a life of their own, whether they wanted it or not."  
  
"And that was supposed to be you," Steve says. It isn't a question.  
  
Phil nods. "The day after we got our ranks, everybody was talking. They all wanted to know who was what... especially for 'those' subs." Phil sighs. "They wanted confirmation on who they could target. I had so many Doms come up to me and ask, and when I told them it was classified - well, everybody knows why a sub gets their rank sealed. And back then, netting the sub with the highest rank was a point of pride. There were three of us in my year who hid our ranks, and we spent the remainder of our school lives spending every day fending off the questions, and fending off the Doms who wanted us as trophies."  
  
Steve sighs too. "Bucky had similar - but he also had a Dom. Even though I was sickly and small, I wasn't letting anybody touch him."  
  
"I'm sure you defended him admirably," Phil murmurs.   
  
"I like to think so. And I'm glad you've got a Dom like Clint, who just doesn't seem to care less about ranks."  
  
"Clint didn't rank test until he joined SHIELD," Phil says. "He never really grew up with it, so he avoided all the importance that was placed on it. He knew the essentials, of course, and knew he was a Dom, but I still remember when he came back from his rank testing, just a week into his employment, and sheepishly asked me to explain what exactly an eleven meant and whether it was something he needed to work on."  
  
Steve laughs. "Is that when you fell in love?" he teases lightly.   
  
Phil smiles and shakes his head. "Well, I'm sure it began somewhere around there," he amends, "but the actual realisation was a good few years away. Besides, back then I wasn't letting myself look at people as potential partners and Doms."  
  
"Too much heartbreak?"  
  
"Too much work," Phil says honestly. "But I suppose the two tie together in the end - I knew my chosen path would only lead me to heartbreak in my personal life if I tried, so I made work my master. I came home from work to more work. I stopped looking for a Dom that could work around SHIELD regs, and started ignoring my submissive desires. Unless I was going to go catatonic if I didn't get looked after, I suppressed it."  
  
"Did that ever happen?"  
  
"Once. I'd prefer not to discuss it."  
  
"Of course," Steve murmurs. "Sorry. Go on."  
  
Phil nods. "Apart from those times, I told myself I didn't need care - that I'd chosen this path, and this was the price I had to pay. If I wanted my independence, I didn't get to come home to someone. It was either complete independence, or none. And now I know better, but it took a long time - even after Clint took me as his - for me to accept that. To actually believe I could get both of these lives and not give anything up... except for bad habits like bringing work home. I don't regret giving my life to SHIELD. I don't regret the path that led me to Clint. But I look back and see a lot of loneliness that I wish had been avoidable."  
  
Steve tightens his hold a little. "I'm sorry, Phil," he says. "I didn't mean to bring up sad memories."  
  
"No, it's okay. I'm sorry I got maudlin - this is about you and how you're feeling."  
  
Phil words it as delicately as he can - sometimes Steve clams up and tries to pretend he's fine if Phil pays attention to his feelings. But today Steve just sighs and shrugs. "Yeah. Me and feelings. Having a lot of those. I know he's been gone a long time now, but not for me. He and I had this whole other world, and now I'm in this new place and he's not here. He won't ever be here."  
  
Phil isn't sure what to say - and this is always the hardest part. He can be here for Steve, offer him comfort and companionship for a short time; bit when that ends, Steve's still alone. There's nothing Phil can tell him that will make that any easier to bear.  
  
Steve sighs again. "Sometimes I wonder if this world is worth living in without him."  
  
Phil suppresses a sigh of his own and several bad words. This kind of nonsense, however, he knows exactly how to respond to. "Statistically, I'm going to die first out of myself and Clint," he says. "And I'll tell you what - I'd never stand for Clint deciding after I was gone that he doesn't want to be here without me. I hope I'm a good thing in his life, but I'm not the only one. There's a lot more to live for than the one you love; and living on keeps their memory alive anyway. Honour the love James gave you by giving it to others, and live your life because, if he's anything like you've told me, he'd be furious if you did anything else."  
  
"Well put," Steve murmurs after a moment. He doesn't speak for a few minutes, Phil happy to give him that time, then - "So where did those statistics come from?"  
  
"The school of Steve Rogers Needs a Heavy Dose of Reality."  
  
Steve laughs, and his hold on Phil loosens. Phil knows what that means, and sits back. "Thanks, Phil," Steve says, squeezing his shoulder before standing. "I'll return you now. I'm sure Clint misses you and your snarky mouth when you're gone."  
  
"As I said, I like to think I'm a good thing in his life," Phil says innocently as he stands too.   
  
Steve shakes his head, smiling, and they head out. "It's nice to see you so happy," Steve says unexpectedly as they step into the lift.   
  
Phil shrugs and tries not to blush. "It's nice to be this happy," he says simply.   
  
Steve doesn't reply, but he doesn't look quite so sad, and that's about as good as it's going to get.   
  
Clint opens the door almost immediately when Steve knocks (because Steve likes to do things formally), and smiles at them both. "Hey," he says, and holds out an arm for Phil, who allows himself to be drawn over immediately. "Feeling better?"  
  
"A lot better," Steve says.   
  
"And you took care of my boy?"  
  
"He did," Phil confirms.   
  
Steve nods at them both. "Thanks, fellas," he says, and quietly departs.   
  
Clint closes the door. "He okay?" he asks.   
  
Phil shrugs. "He could be worse," he says.   
  
"Well, that's a good thing. And I'm sure you helped."  
  
"I hope so."  
  
Clint leads him into the living room with no further questions. He generally doesn't ask about Steve and Phil's time unless Phil comes back sad, and even then he only asks enough to figure out how to help Phil feel better. Clint's absolute trust in Phil - letting him go off and spend private time with his former childhood hero - is another thing that amazes Phil. Phil can't resist giving Clint a hug, and Clint returns it easily. "Difficult?" he asks.   
  
"Not really. Just - just reminded me of how lucky I am. I love you."  
  
Clint kisses his cheek. "I love you too." He draws back enough to look Phil over, then smiles and kisses his forehead too. "Do you need anything?" he asks.   
  
Phil shakes his head, then pauses. "Well. Maybe to - to pick up where I left off?"  
  
Smiling, Clint sits down and slides Phil's cushion over. "C'mere, sweetheart," Clint says, and Phil drops to his knees, leaning contentedly against Clint's leg as Clint pets his hair. "There we go. There's my good boy."  
  
Sighing happily, Phil closes his eyes. He might not have fixed the problem, but he's done some good, and that's more than enough to help him relax back into the contented haze.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Tony (because his 'unconventional' relationship isn't just because he loves Pepper, and Phil helps with some self discovery)
> 
> (P.S. I can no longer promise chapters weekly. I'll try for fortnightly, but I won't swear to any kind of posting schedule at the moment. I'm always happy to let people know approximately where I'm at on the next chapter - just message me on Tumblr at clintcoulsons)


	3. Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay,” Clint says after a minute, his hands a tight grip on Phil’s wrists, pressed against the wall, “I’m gonna let you go. You are not going to attack Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony, Tony, Tony. He's a hard one to write, and there are so many ways his character could work in this verse, but he eventually pulled me in this direction. At least in this one he doesn't make Phil cry.
> 
> Warning for small mentions of potentially abusive behaviour.

The thing is, Tony has at _least_ twelve labs that they know of. For him to show up in the meeting room Clint and Phil are using to wrap up a strategy lesson, tools and gadgets in hand, claiming he needs the room (but they don’t need to leave, absolutely not, feel free to stay), is such a ludicrous lie that neither of them feel like calling him out on it. Phil just finishes packing up the maps and computers, then they wait.

Tony doesn’t ever take long to crack. He peeks up, sees them both watching, then sets down his project - except for the screwdriver, which he fiddles with. The nervous tic is as obvious as the lie was, and Phil raises an eyebrow. “Who do I need to be?” he asks.

“Huh?” 

“Is this a SHIELD matter?” Phil elaborates. “Because I’ve been acting as Clint’s superior officer most of the morning, so I’m good to go if it’s -“

“Oh, right. No, I don’t need Agent.”

Phil smiles slightly, and relaxes. He never feels quite off duty until he’s out of the suit, but for now he at least lets himself stop feeling like he’s the one in charge. “Then how can we help you?” Clint asks.

Tony flips the screwdriver a few times. “Got a question. Barton, I absolutely don’t mean this the wrong way -“ 

“Best restrain me now, Phil,” Clint says, and he’s only half joking. “This is gonna be bad.” 

Tony rolls his eyes, then sighs. “Yeah, probably. There’s no way to word it.” 

“Just spit it out.”

Phil’s ready with a hand on Clint’s arm, but it isn’t necessary. When Tony finally says, “I was just wondering how someone as fucked up as you actually got a sweet sub like Phil to keep,” it’s not Clint who reacts - and it’s suddenly much easier to be off duty.

“Okay,” Clint says after a minute, his hands a tight grip on Phil’s wrists, pressed against the wall, “I’m gonna let you go. You are not going to attack Tony.”

"I can’t promise that.”

“Yes you can, because you’re my good boy who knows how to do what I say. And I’m asking you to promise me you’ll not physically attack Tony.”

“So I can slaughter him with my words instead?”

“We can have a discussion,” Clint says, and pointedly stops talking. 

Phil takes that as unspoken permission, and nods. Clint releases him and they sit back down, then Phil levels his best glare on Tony. “I’m about to show you just how _not_ sweet I really am. I spent years erasing that kind of language from Clint’s vocabulary, I’m not about to let you start bringing it back. What’s the deal?”

“Let me,” Clint says before Tony can reply. “We both had screwy childhoods, and took longer than we should have to sort our shit out - and, despite Phil’s strident defense, still have our bad days. You want to know why I deserve someone as good as Phil… because you don’t have someone?”

“I don’t want a sub,” Tony says immediately. “That ship has long sailed in my life.”

“My point stands.”

Tony fiddles with the screwdriver for a bit, then sets it down. “Fine, yeah,” he mutters. “How’d you win him?”

Phil bristles. “Excuse me,” he says sharply. “I am _not_ an object to be won." 

Clint puts an arm around him, the gesture holding a hint of warning. “Okay, I know you’re pissed, and I won’t say you’re not allowed to be, but I’ve used those words before myself about you.”

Phil shakes his head. “Not the same way,” he says, because he’s not in the habit of arguing back but this has been his whole damn _life_ and Clint needs to understand. “You say you won because you’ve wanted me for a long time and the fact that I returned that is what feels like the prize to you. Tony’s asking how you… how you _caught_ me. How you’re keeping me here. Why I haven’t already left. As if you have to use trickery to keep me, and as if you can.” 

Clint’s quiet for a moment. “Tony?” he asks. 

Tony shrugs again. “Look, there’s a reason I don’t have a sub.”

“Pepper?”

Another shrug. “Of course. But there’s a reason I never looked for one for a long time before meeting her.” Tony pauses, then sighs. “I’m a shit Dom. I don’t trust myself with subs.” 

Phil takes a long look at Tony. “You took all the sweet and innocent ones, chewed them up, and spit them out, didn’t you?” 

“Alcohol support groups for Doms receive a lot of private funding from Stark Industries,” Tony says without looking at them. 

Phil sighs sadly, and Clint’s arm tightens around Phil’s shoulders. “At least now there’s the standard clause in all contracts that a Dom under the influence cannot make any binding orders to their sub,” Phil says. 

“It’s a good one,” Tony agrees. “And don’t get me wrong - I was an asshole when I was sober too. But all these pretty things begging for me to take them home and play with them, that they’d do whatever I said, and I was drunk enough that I didn’t think about what it would be like to wake up in the morning… I needed to meet a sub like you, Phil.”

“Subs like me were busy working our way up through the food chain,” Phil says with a shrug. “We didn’t have time for billionaire playboy parties, and billionaire playboys didn’t have time for us. You wouldn’t have taken a second look at me, Tony, because I wasn’t falling at your feet pleading for your collar. But that explains your attitude - you’ve only really ever seen the types of subs who wanted you because of what you had. The ones who stayed for the money and parties, but would have left if that dried up.”

“And it also explains your confusion,” Clint says slowly. “Because you think that your shit past and the fact that you’re a shit Dom are tied together, and you don’t get how I’d actually be able to be good to Phil.” 

Phil processes that, then sighs. “Childhood isn’t an excuse,” he says. “It’s an explanation, but not a justification. If you haven’t worked out how to be good to someone you’re supposed to care for, then the problem lies with you - either because you haven’t grown up enough to face your demons, or there’s something about you that means you just _are_ a shit Dom." 

Clint's hand tightens again. "Easy," he murmurs. 

 "No," Tony says sharply. "Don't go easy. Tell me, Phil. I want to hear it."

If it were a challenge, Phil wouldn't take it. But it's an honest request - befuddling, but genuine. “Why?” he asks.

“I’ve only ever asked other Doms,” Tony says. “I’ve always - I knew the problem was with me, just like I always knew it was never about the alcohol, but I was always asking what I do to get around it and get subs anyway. But subs like you, you’ve seen it all before. You know what we’re like, and you seem to know why. So… so tell me why. Why am I a shit Dom?” 

Phil looks at Clint, then Tony. “I won’t hold back,” he warns.  

“Hit me,” Tony says. 

Phil goes right ahead and does. “You said you’ve had subs before,” he begins. “The ones you used for gratification and then threw out. You felt nothing for them - and that in itself isn’t bad. Casual hookups happen all the time, and far be it from me to judge. But most one night stands are by mutual agreement. You took in subs that wanted the world from you, and abandoned them in the morning… and did you gain anything from the nights you spent with them? You used them for gratification, but _did_ you get gratification from it?”

“I seem to remember some good sex.”

“That’s actually a no, then,” Phil tells him. “Again, arrangements solely for sex happen. But you were bringing in subs who wanted to submit to you. If what you remember from it is only the physical gratification, then the answer is no. Because we’re talking about you as a Dom. I have no doubts that you are capable of enjoying sex, but I want to know whether you enjoyed their submission, and whether your needs were met as a Dom.” 

“What needs?”

Phil snaps his fingers. “There. Thank you.”

Tony frowns. “That was a legitimate question.”

“I know. And you’ve told me what I need to know to figure out just what kind of Dom you are.”

“Oh yeah?” Tony raises an eyebrow. “Enlighten me.”

Tony’s customary defensiveness is beginning to rise, but Phil refuses to be quelled by it. “Gladly,” he says. “All those subs you took in meant nothing to you -“ 

“I could’ve told you that.”

Phil sighs. “ _Because_ ,” he continues pointedly, “the whole concept of having a sub means nothing to you. All of the traditional relationships you have had have been motivated by the wrong thing entirely. You didn't want a sub because you met someone beautiful inside and out and wanted to give them the world. You didn't want a sub so you could have someone to take care of and cherish and make happy. You took them and used them, because they'd let you and because you were 'supposed' to, and because, if just for one night, you would feel like you were living life properly. Whatever it is you feel about Clint - jealousy, bitterness, I don’t know - it isn’t because you feel like the world has somehow cheated you out of having a sub. It’s because you wish you had the same feelings and instincts he has when it comes to dominating. You’re a Dom by rank, but you don’t want to be one.”

There’s a heavy silence after that; Clint’s hand firm on his shoulder, Tony meeting his eyes just as firmly. Phil waits it out.  

“I’m with Pepper because I love her,” Tony says eventually.  

“Nobody’s denying that,” Phil says. “But five minutes ago you were saying yourself that that’s not the only reason you aren’t with a sub - and you could have a sub even now. You and Pepper wouldn't be the first Dominant matched couple to bring in a submissive to meet their other needs. But you won't. Pepper has joked before that taking care of you is more than enough, and she doesn't need a sub on top of that. And that is very telling, Tony."

"What does it tell you?" Tony asks. 

"You're not a sub," Phil says. "It isn't in your nature to submit, you don't take joy from it. But you want to. You wish you could kneel for Pepper, that she could order you to do things and you'd delight in obeying. You don't. But you want to. Because you want to be taken care of, and as a Dom, nobody has ever done that for you. You've always been expected to look after yourself.”

“Which I can do,” Tony says stubbornly. 

“Nobody’s saying you can’t,” Phil says. “This isn’t a personal attack.” Tony still looks a little affronted - and Phil really didn’t intend to hit that nerve - so he quickly moves on. “There’s one other thing I wanted to pick up on. You mentioned that you should have found a sub like me earlier. Could you dominate me, Tony?"

"No," Tony says instinctively, then stops and frowns.  

Phil smiles. "I won't ask you why not. I suspect you don't really know yourself." He turns to Clint instead. “He’s comparing himself to you. Why can you dominate me?"

"Apart from the fact that I love you?" Clint thinks it over for a moment. "I guess I feel safe with you - with the type of sub you are. Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve the control I have over you, that I have no right to tell you what to do when it took me so long just to figure out what I should do. I worry that my fucked up past will have taught me things that might hurt you. But you're always going to say no if you need to... and of all the people you could have had and trusted and loved, you chose me. Which means I can't be that fucked up. So I trust myself to dominate you because you trust me to, and because I know now I can trust myself too. I know how it feels to hurt you, even a little, and I could never take advantage of you for my own gratification - it would hurt me too much."

"Do you see what the difference is between you and Clint?" Phil asks quietly. "He needs to dominate. He wouldn't ever do so at my expense, and he'd live neutral for the rest of his life rather than hurt anybody, but he's a Dom. It is who he is. You dominated out of requirement, and it meant nothing because a sub kneeling for you doesn’t feel _right_. It isn’t you.”

“Then how’d I rank twenty?”

“Talk to Natasha about the flaws in the ranking system,” Phil says wryly, and both Clint and Tony chuckle. “But honestly, I think you’re a dominant personality in the rest of your life, just not relationships. And you’re definitely not a sub - nor, I think, a switch.” 

“The stories I could tell you about what goes on in the bedroom -“ 

“Are not going to be told, thank you,” Phil says firmly. “I’m sure I’ve unhappily heard most of them already.” 

“Kink and rank don’t go together either,” Clint murmurs. “I’m a high ranked Dom, and I’ve played with a few things that are well and truly in submissive category.”

That’s news. Phil turns a slow, considering look on Clint - then remembers where he is and promptly blushes. He can see Tony smirking out of the corner of his eye, and Clint just gives him a smile and a silent promise: _later_. “Continuing,” Phil says briskly. “Yes, Tony, you’re a Dom by rank. But I'm also technically a submissive who requires specialised care by rank, and Clint’s given us his… information, also. We are far more than our numbers tell us we should be.”

Tony nods, then sighs and picks up his machinery again to fiddle. Phil waits it out. “So,” Tony mutters after a few minutes, “what do I do?”

“Do?” Phil asks.

“Yeah. Like, to fix it.”

Phil shakes his head. “There’s no fixing required. What you have with Pepper is good and special and worthwhile - and equal. Equal is what you need, and there's no shame in that." 

“What if I want to be a proper Dom?” 

Phil shrugs. “I’m sorry,” he says simply.  

“For what it’s worth, there’s no such thing as a proper Dom,” Clint says. “But I’m with Phil on this one - you’ve tried it, and it’s not for you. You’ve gotta do what’s right for you." 

Tony nods again, then quickly scoops up his tools. “Better get this back to the lab,” he says. “Good chat. Let’s not have it again.” 

As soon as he’s gone, Phil turns to Clint. “Home, please.”

Clint nods. He doesn’t ask, or speak, until they’ve made it back to their rooms, until the door is closed and Phil’s yanking the tie off his neck. “You okay?” Clint asks.

Phil nods, heading to the bedroom. “Back in a minute,” he says as he goes.

True to his word, he’s back, dressed in street clothes and more than happy to sink into the couch next to Clint, who wraps his arms around him. "I always thought you taking Tony down a peg would be gratifying and insanely hot," he says, "but that was just..."

"Bittersweet," Phil murmurs, then sighs and tucks his face against Clint's neck. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I was mouthy. I took liberties and said things I probably shouldn't have."

Clint rubs his back. "You didn't do anything wrong," he says. "Apology not accepted. Apart from that being kind of sad, part of that _was_ insanely hot.” 

Phil chuckles. “Thanks, I think,” he says, lifting his head to look at Clint. “Unexpected is the word I’d go for. On a lot of levels.”

“Tony Stark, confiding in us,” Clint agrees. “But I guess having a sub around kind of makes people more aware of things… even when they don’t want to be.”

Phil nods. “That’s the thing with subs - most of us do try to keep as neutral as we can in a public setting, while Doms are usually ‘on’, even when they don’t realize it. When I moved in, I learned a lot about myself just by being around everybody. And now that I’m more comfortable being submissive around others, it’s doing the same. Not that Tony will thank me for it.” Phil sighs. ”Usually it's subs you find who hate their assigned status, who try to hide their true selves and become Doms. Self-loathing Doms are rare." 

"I don't know," Clint murmurs. "I think maybe self-loathing Doms might just be... quieter. Because a sub wanting to be a Dom is usually about having a better life and not feeling like they don't matter. A Dom wanting to throw away their control and power is definitely seen more as a sign of weakness. Doms like Natasha who do it because they hate the system and everything it stands for are one thing - Doms who can't handle their own control and wish they were subs are quite another. I'd never say that Tony doesn't love Pepper, but I think he's also glad to be able to use her as..." 

"As an excuse," Phil completes, and Clint nods. "A way to break the stereotype that looks like it's by choice and out of defiance, not because he's not..."

"Normal."

"Is anybody around here normal?"

Clint laughs. "Baby, you knew the answer to that long before we brought rank politics into it. 

Phil kisses him. It’s well needed - kissing Clint always settles him. There’s so many things he can’t fix out there, so many people angry and hurt and confused, but here with Clint, the world is exactly as it should be. 

“So about these things you’ve done in the submissive category,” he murmurs, evading neatly when Clint tries to kiss him quiet. “I think we need to have a good long discussion, don’t you?”

“I like a bit of sensory deprivation,” Clint murmurs back, pressing a few kisses to his cheek, then down his jaw. “Also marking - though nowhere _near_ as much as you like it when I do it to you.”

Phil’s reply is lost when Clint lowers his mouth to the juncture between neck and shoulder. “I take it we’re not having a good long discussion,” he finally manages, when his eyes have refocused.

“Oh no,” Clint agrees, kissing the bright red mark better. “You know I prefer my lessons to be demonstrative.”

Phil decides, just this once, to be okay with that. 

(The way Clint’s kissing him has nothing to do with that at _all_ , of course.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Natasha. Who hates the system for more reasons than one.


	4. Natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This isn't about Clint,” Natasha says, her voice tight. “Like we agreed, he’s a good Dom. He doesn't do anything to you that you don’t want. But he could. He’s entirely within his rights to do so, just like any person born Dominant is. And that’s what my problem is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I can say is thank goodness I warned you I might not have a regular schedule anymore. And I'm sorry. And in my defence, Natasha is really hard to write. But here she is. Set immediately after 'all the pain and the truth I wear like a battle wound'.
> 
> Warnings for hypothetical discussion of potentially abusive situations.

Clint swings by to pick Phil up at just after five, and Phil’s only too happy to let himself be taken home. He’s looking forward to a quiet night in, preferably at Clint’s feet, to allow the aftermath of the past two days wash away a little more. 

Naturally, that doesn’t happen. 

Natasha arrives at the lift just as it opens, in the kind of perfect coincidence that she’s so good at engineering. That she doesn’t push the button for her own floor isn’t commented on, but Clint does stop her when they reach the apartment door. “I need to check Phil’s back,” he says. “You can come in, but I’ll be taking him to another room for that first.” 

Natasha nods. She doesn’t say anything, just follows them in and heads for the living room, sitting down to wait while Clint leads Phil to the bedroom and closes the door. “Any idea why she’s here?” Phil asks quietly as he takes off his tie. “It seems serious.” 

“She’s checking up on you,” Clint murmurs, putting away his gear while he waits for Phil to remove his shirt. “I told you we talked last night?” 

“Yeah.” During their talk this morning - in which Clint admitted to his own fears and vulnerabilities, and honestly helped Phil feel a whole lot better - Clint had told Phil about Natasha showing up to check on Clint. Phil hadn't been surprised. “But checking up on me?” Phil has to ask. “I thought it was you she was here for.”

Clint shrugs, then steps behind Phil to look at his back. “Told her about this,” he says. “She… wasn’t impressed.”

“Even though I asked for it?” 

“That calmed her down a little, but you know what Nat’s like with these things. She wants to see with her own eyes that you consented to this.”

Phil stays silent while Clint finishes checking him over, then picks up his shirt again. “Does she have reason to believe that I wouldn’t have consented?” he asks lightly.  

“Nothing more than usual.” Clint holds up the tie, and tosses it aside when Phil shakes his head. “Like I said, it’s just her way.”

Phil doesn’t question it any further - yet. H’s always known that ‘Natasha’s just like that’, but after their talk with Tony, he’s also learned not to take the way people present themselves at face value. There’s always been a lot more to Natasha than she’d ever let people see, and most of what she does show doesn’t come with explanation or context. All Phil really knows is that she rejects the ranking system and, as far as he knows anyway, has never had a sub. 

He’s always been curious about her. And now that she’s involving herself in the matter, Phil might just take the opportunity handed to him to satisfy his curiosity a little. 

When they exit the room, Natasha’s waiting in the armchair in the living room. She watches them enter, and Phil watches her in return as he crosses to the couch and sits down. Clint doesn’t question his choice of seat, just sits next to him and nods at Natasha. “Go ahead,” he says.

She nods back, then keeps looking at Phil. “I hope everything’s well with you after yesterday?”

Phil smiles. “It was a hell of an outburst, wasn’t it?” he says. “Clint says he’s explained why I was so agitated - luckily he worked his magic and got me to talk about it and work through it. I’m feeling much better now." 

It’s not what she wants to hear, and Phil knows it. But Phil also isn’t prepared to let her off easy - if she wants to know the details of their personal lives, then she needs to give a bit in return. 

Natasha, of course, knows what he’s doing, and appears to think on it for a moment before giving him a small nod. “Clint punished you,” she says bluntly.

Phil much prefers blunt, and responds in kind. “He did. I asked for it. I made a mess of things and I wasn’t going to feel better until I felt like I atoned for it.”

“But Clint didn’t feel like you deserved punishment.”

“But I did.”

Natasha looks at Clint, who sighs. “And if I’d refused to punish him?” he asks. “What then? He would have been left feeling guilty and miserable. I had a way to help take that burden away from him, and he asked for it.”

“Why?” 

“Why what?” 

“Why ask it of you? If the guilt was his alone, if you didn’t feel he needed punishment, then why were you involved at all?” 

“Because I’m his Dom.”

Natasha’s eyes harden. “Because society puts you in a position where you have the right to inflict physical harm on him.”

“No,” Phil says sharply. “Because _I_ put him in that position. Because I asked him to help in situations like that. Because it makes my life easier if he helps me get rid of the guilt - in the same way he’d be there if I asked him to talk it out with me, or if I needed a shoulder to cry on. Clint is involved because he loves me and he wants to help if I’m struggling, and he did. He helped in the way I needed, in the way I requested. Didn’t you tell him last night that he’s a good Dom and treats me right?”

Natasha blinks at the sudden change of pace. “Yes,” she says warily. “He’s good to you. As for being a good Dom, that’s really not a hard thing to do is it? At least not by comparison.”

Phil sighs. “Okay,” he says quietly, “let’s stop talking at cross purposes here. This isn't about Clint or I, is it?”

“I was concerned,” Natasha says just as quietly.

Phil smiles. “I know you were, and I appreciate it. But your concern isn’t just a simple enquiry as to whether I’m okay after yesterday, which is all it would be if it were anybody else asking. Your concern stems from something else entirely - something that, despite Clint being one of the few people you trust to be decent and act fairly, has you questioning whether he hurt me against my consent. This isn’t about Clint, it’s about the fact that he’s a Dom - an active Dom, with someone under his control. And no matter what you think of him as a person, you don’t quite trust him as a Dom, do you?” 

“This isn't about Clint,” Natasha says, her voice tight. “Like we agreed, he’s a good Dom. He doesn't do anything to you that you don’t want. But he _could_. He’s entirely within his rights to do so, just like any person born Dominant is. And that’s what my problem is.”  

Phil really isn’t at all surprised by what he’s hearing, but he still takes a few moments to try and put his thoughts together. Natasha is far from the first Dom he’s met who questions the system, and heaven knows _all_ the subs Phil has ever met have rallied against the injustices of it. Phil himself has plenty of issues with society and inequality - but he’s also put a lot of his bitterness to rest over the years, and has watched enough of the world’s changes to be able to make peace with most of society’s flaws. Natasha, Phil thinks, has probably never done that. And while he's not stupid enough to try and change her world view, he does want to help her see at least some of the good in it. 

“Have you ever wanted a sub?” Phil asks, starting light.

Natasha shrugs. "On an instinctive level, sure. But not enough to take one."

"Interesting terminology," Phil says quietly. "Taking a sub. You see it as something similar to force, or removing our free will."

Natasha doesn't try to backtrack or soften it, just nods. "Clint tells you what to do. He gives you orders, and punishes you if you don't obey them. He can veto your decisions if he thinks they're not best for you. He has his mark around your neck and has you locked under contract. And society as a whole justifies this as the norm because of base animal instincts and a psychometric test that gives you a number to judge yourself by for the rest of your life. Because I was born with certain DNA and inherent personality traits, I have the right to take another person under my control.”

“Within reason,” Phil says. 

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Very flimsy reason,” she says. “I could coerce a sub into signing a contract that allows me to be downright cruel to them, and then defend myself by saying that I got their permission.”

“You could also sweet talk a neutral into a vanilla relationship,” Phil says, “then treat them abhorrently and manipulate them by telling them you love them and making them think that nobody will believe them if they tell. Or I could give Clint consent to use punishment on me, then safeword without cause every single time he attempts to do so and make him feel that he’s treating me badly.” 

“I’m not saying those things don’t happen. People can be cruel, regardless of status. But subs are usually the worst off - and when a contract comes into it, often to the point that it needs to be dragged through the courts to dissolve it, they definitely end up suffering the most.” 

"It's not a perfect system," Clint agrees. Natasha and Phil both look at him, and he shrugs. “What? That’s all I’ve got - I’m not defending it. You can’t change if you're dominant or submissive, but shit like the law shouldn’t come into it. The fact that not that many years ago I had the right to knock Phil around if he didn’t obey me, even if my orders were unfair, is ridiculous. Yes, I have the ability, and the right if you will, to cause physical pain to Phil - but that right only exists with his consent. Any punishment or order that I give is given because he allows me to. That’s his right alone.” 

“Doesn’t SHIELD allow Doms to punish their subs for work infractions?” Natasha asks lightly.

Phil sighs. “SHIELD works with Doms when it comes to subs who are repeatedly causing problems, acting out, or posing a threat to themselves and others. It isn’t about telling on subs to their Doms, it’s about seeing whether there’s an established pattern that the Dom already knows about, or if there are indications of a troubled sub.”

“And you’d be okay with Clint being called in as your Dom during work hours?”

“If I were acting in a way that required that, I’d probably be beyond the point of controlling myself and glad for him to step in to save me from mortification.” Phil sighs again. “I’m with Clint on not liking external factors like the law justifying actions based on status, and I wouldn’t stand for it if SHIELD were using their power to discriminate against submissives, you know that. One of the main reasons SHIELD works on finding the root of the problem with a misbehaving sub is because they want to be sure they aren’t being treated badly by their Dom. And maybe that isn’t their place either, but at least they’re trying to do good.”

“It’s still invasive.”

“I’ll give you that. But I think we can agree that the world is getting less invasive - for example, society as a whole is more or less past the point where subs needed to be collared for their own safety." Natasha raises a slow, deliberate eyebrow, and Phil nods. "There are still times when they get it wrong. But even that will change. I can guarantee within five to ten years there'll be uncollared subs back at the highest levels of SHIELD, and in other high level jobs too. This is just a setback, and those are always there on the road to progress. It's not perfect, like Clint said, but I'm much happier being a sub now than I was when I was younger, or than I would have been seventy or so years ago." 

"But you're still collared."

"My collar is not a shackle. It's a choice. The fact that I have the freedom to choose who collars me and whether I wish to be collared at all -" 

"Phil, they were going to take your job." 

Phil sighs. "Yes, but I could have quit. And that seems like a horrible thing to you, but Natasha, if I had been Level Seven twenty years ago, they wouldn't have given me the choice of losing my job. I would have been forcibly collared for my own protection and kept as a SHIELD asset - and there would have been no way out. At least now if I decide I no longer want to be Clint’s, there is a process to set me free.” 

“What about contracts that don’t allow subs to walk when they please?”

“The law overrides those. Doms can impose conditions, but nothing unreasonable. If a sub wants to leave because they think their Dom doesn’t want them, for example, the Dom can refuse to allow the dissolution. But if a sub just wants out, they’re allowed out.” 

“And how many of them actually get out?” Natasha asks. 

“Do you remember when the laws passed allowing subs to file police reports and testify against their Doms in court?” Phil asks in return. “Because I can tell you what happened - in the first year alone, there were close to a thousand cases taken to court in New York, of subs finally able to speak out against their Doms and request a lawful dissolution of their contracts. A Dom was sent to prison for unlawful treatment of a submissive within the first month - we never thought that would happen. And now, of course, I don’t even need to take it through the courts unless my Dom poses a threat to me. If I want to leave Clint and he doesn’t want me to go, I’m not going to get classed as a runaway if I leave. So, yes, there are probably some who don’t get out, who still get treated abhorrently - but there are so many who have, and so many more who know we can.”

Natasha sighs. “Things could still be better.”

“Of course they could. And here’s hoping that they will be.” Phil shrugs. “Look - you have your issues with the system. There’s the obvious observation of the genuine flaws; and then there’s something deeper and more personal. What exactly that stems from is not my business, and I don’t think you’d tell me if I asked. But just because something is flawed doesn’t mean it’s inherently bad. The way I see it, if the system were pure evil we wouldn’t have made the progress we have in the past fifty years. The world is striving towards being better - and yes, some people don’t want to be, some would rather embrace the loopholes that allow them to harm others… but _most_ don’t. And sometimes you have to focus on the positives instead, or you'll never be able to be happy."

“And,” Clint adds, “Phil and I are in that majority. Our relationship is healthy - most of the time. But when it isn’t, we work on it. Everything we do is with both of our interests in mind, and wanting the best for each other and for us.”

“Do you think you would have been drawn together if you were both neutrals?”

“We would be completely different people,” Clint says. “Maybe it’s better to ask whether I’d stay with Phil if he decided he no longer wanted to submit with me. But to honor the hypothetical - yes, I think so. I love Phil, who also happens to submit to me. I love that he does that, but I love _him_. His mind and heart and personality and sense of humor all mean much more to me than how pretty he looks when he’s on his knees.”  

Phil, blushing slightly, nods. “Same. If I decided I didn’t want orders, I’d still want Clint.”

“Then why not try a neutral relationship?”

“But why?” Phil asks in return. “I want this, what we have. I want Clint, and I want to be Clint’s. My instincts tell me to submit to Clint, but my very clear mind tells me why he's trustworthy enough to submit to. I don't kneel for anybody unless I know they'll treat me right and like I deserve. But I will kneel for the right Dominant, because that's what makes me happy."

Clint nods. ”I could date Phil and have him as my partner and never dominate him, and we'd both be happy. But why fight it? When we know we love each other and we'll treat one another right, what better circumstances?" 

Phil squeezes his hand, smiling softly. “That’s really how it is, and how it should be. True domination and submission in the context of a loving relationship should be _because_ of that love, not as something that should be done, as routine or expectation. I submit because that’s the natural way for me to show Clint that I love him.”

“And I dominate the same way in return."

“You know,” Phil says to Natasha, “when it comes down to it, we’re fighting for the same thing; equality of all people, regardless of status. But while your image of equality is one where status is removed completely, mine allows for equality _alongside_ status. My vision of equality allows for me to submit as my natural desires wish, and to still have the same rights as any Dominant. And while that may not yet be the case in the whole world - and I sincerely hope we are moving towards that happening one day - I do have that here. I’m an equal to everybody in this building, and especially so with Clint. I’m getting the things I want and need, and I’m getting treated like a valuable human being. I’m happy. And I don’t expect everybody to want what I have or to be happy like this,” Phil adds quickly. “I’m not saying that this is how it has to be for everybody. But equality is out there - it might just look different for different people.”

“Sometimes I envy what you have,” Natasha murmurs. “But what I envy is the ease of it - not the actions themselves. You’re very sweet, Phil, and I have no doubt that you behave nicely, but I’d never be comfortable with you submitting to me - and none the least because Clint would have me taken out of the picture quick smart if I tried to dominate you.”

Phil laughs. “At the end of the day,” he concludes, “you want what you want, and you don’t want what you don’t. If you don’t want a sub, whatever your motives, then so be it. And if you perhaps also don't want relationships at all - traditional or neutral - then so be it.”

Natasha gives him an appraising look, then smiles, and Phil’s relieved. Not only has he gotten it right, he hasn’t been murdered for pointing it out. “I love my friends,” she says. “I don’t need anything else to make me happy - apart from the dismantling of the inequalities of the rank system.”

“Maybe you could make that one Steve’s new slogan,” Clint says thoughtfully. “I think he’s just about worn out _vaccinate your kids for the love of god._ ”

Natasha rolls her eyes and stands, heading to the kitchen. “And to think it was us they were worried about when it came to press conferences,” she calls back.

“I don’t see why, since I’m always the perfect model of good behaviour,” Clint says. “But then it’s easy to behave when nobody asks you questions.”

Phil pats his hand. “You can’t help your face,” he says innocently. 

Clint, who looked about ready to go off on a pity party about being _definitely not the boring Avenger_ , blinks at him. "My face?” 

“Your permanent scowl that frightens off even the most fearless of interviewers.” 

Natasha laughs as she returns, handing them each a drink (they don’t even bat an eyelid at her helping herself to their food; it’s a weekly occurrence by now) and settling back in comfortably. “I told you,” she says to Clint. “They want to ask you questions, they’re just afraid of getting an arrow to the face.”

“But Phil doesn’t even let me take my weapons to press conferences,” Clint half-whines. 

“You mean he doesn’t let you take your obvious bow and arrow and turns a blind eye to the several still-obvious weapons on your person?” 

“Oh, as if you’re any better. Just because you have a hundred creative ways to stash blades and still manage to look completely innocent to the untrained eye.” 

“And that’s why I’m Phil’s favourite,” Natasha says smugly. 

“You’re Phil’s - you think _you’re_ Phil’s favourite?”

 “Professionally, yes.”

 Clint turns to Phil, who shakes his head, smirking. “I’m not allowed favourites,” he says.

“Yeah, but you have them.”

“Yes,” Natasha says, “and they’re me.” 

“He had a couch installed for me!” 

“Because you’re a pest who always invades his office and at least you might fall asleep now and leave him to his work.”

“All the hours in one-on-one training -“

“You’re high maintenance. I do my job without Phil needing to get involved.” 

“High _maintenance_?”

Phil rests his head on Clint’s shoulder, closes his eyes, and listens to the familiar bickering of his two favourite agents.

(Which one is his actual favourite, he’ll never reveal). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Bucky. Because it isn't just the Doms that Phil has an impact on.


	5. Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You are not in competition with Phil," Steve says and, shit, that sounds like it's been said more than once. Phil’s starting to get very worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's always a pleasure to write about my second-favourite submissive. Yes, there are absolutely sub dates coming up in the future - but we have to get through this small issue first.

As the weeks pass, Bucky quickly becomes a part of the family. 

If he’s not by Steve’s side, he’s often lurking around the lab with Tony and Bruce, watching them work and occasionally letting Tony run tests on his arm. Or he’s with Natasha, learning how to fight again - he knows how to incapacitate and kill, but now he has to learn to reconcile his mind and conscience with his actions. And sometimes, to Phil’s private joy, Bucky seeks him out, wanting nothing more to sit and talk as subs. Sometimes they discuss the rights movement, or Bucky’s experiences being Steve’s in the past - other times the talk has nothing to do with them both being submissive, but still holds a different tone than talking to Doms would. 

So it’s all going good, and Phil’s pleased to see it. 

But as he settles in, it slowly starts to become clear that Bucky isn’t quite like the rest of them. And yes, that’s a given, with what he’s been through and the fact that this is still a brave new world for him - but it’s more than that. 

Because in the morning when Phil, Clint, Natasha, and any of the others who are teaching or training or working with departments head in to SHIELD, Bucky always hangs behind. And when those who stay behind set about their own daily routines - working in the labs, training, meetings, and all the other business matters personal to each of them - Bucky just sort of… floats about. He either wanders the tower, hanging out with whoever’s around, or he’ll be in his and Steve’s rooms all day, doing god knows what.

Which is entirely his own business, of course, and if he’s happy then there’s no reason for anybody to have any concerns. As long as he’s fine, and Steve’s not worried, then nobody else needs to get involved at all. 

So, of course, everybody gets involved.

Steve, Tony, Phil and Clint all pile out of a shuttle, Tony and Clint in deep discussion about R&D. They’ve both spent most of the day there - Tony helping with designs, Clint testing them. Steve, who’s been assisting with combat training, and Phil, having had a surprisingly calm day of paperwork and field simulations, escape the conversation with some relief, smiling at each other as they can finally get away from the too-loud discussion of new weapons and toys. “Think you’ll get your Dom back tonight?” Steve asks.

Phil chuckles, watching the two. “I think so,” he says - already, Clint’s making movements towards escape. He might enjoy a day of testing and experimenting, but Phil knows Clint likes his quiet nights in. They both like to switch off as soon as they get home, and Hawkeye is ready to disappear for the night, as is Agent Coulson. “I can always rescue him if necessary. A request from me can usually outweigh spending time with Tony.”

“Got him wrapped around your finger?” Bucky asks from behind them.

Careful training means Phil doesn’t jump, just turns with a calm smile. “What would give you that idea?” he asks innocently.

Bucky smirks, then slides into Steve’s space. “Hi, Stevie,” he says. “Did you have a good day?”

“I did,” Steve says, pressing a quick kiss to Bucky’s lips. “And you? What did you get up to?”

Bucky shrugs. “Reading. TV. Did some cleaning - and I cooked. Lasagne.”

“Thanks, baby,” Steve murmurs. “Better go eat it then, before it gets cold.”

“Tony’s freaky robot wouldn’t let anything get cold,” Bucky says, but he’s a little quieter, softer around the edges in a way that Phil knows well, and Phil smiles as he watches them go after a nod of farewell. Seeing other subs melt under praise is always cute.

“Was he insulting JARVIS again?” Tony asks.

Phil turns, still smiling, and catches Clint’s hand as he reaches his side. “I hope Bucky never gets used to your technology,” he says. “It’s too much fun to see you get so put out.”

Tony pulls a face, then glances at the direction Steve and Bucky left in. "So what gives with Bucky finding a job and all that?” he asks without preamble. “I mean, can he? If he's technically dead?"

Tony's looking at Phil, who shrugs. "SHIELD would work with him if that's what he wanted. He hasn’t asked.”

“Has SHIELD asked?” Clint asks.

“We feel that would be putting unfair pressure on him. The last thing we need is for him to believe that he was rescued solely to ‘switch sides’ and work for us.” 

“You’re telling me that wasn’t the motivation?” Clint asks skeptically.

Phil inclines his head slightly. While he doesn't agree with a lot of the political games and decisions that go on within SHIELD, he is privy to them. “In part, of course. He has the potential to be a valuable agent - but he also has the potential to be a flight risk, and nobody wants to alienate Steve by upsetting Bucky.” Clint and Tony concede that, and Phil frowns at Tony. “Why are you curious?” 

“I’m always curious. You telling me you haven’t been wondering why he doesn’t do anything?”

Phil has been wondering - but he only admits that to Clint, later that night, with the lights out and both of them comfortable, wrapped around each other. “I worried that he was moping,” Phil admits. “But he always seems happy.” 

“And Steve isn’t worried,” Clint murmurs back. “Yeah, I know. Maybe he’s just enjoying his freedom?”

“Maybe.” Phil’s quiet for a bit, listening to Clint’s heartbeat. “I thought he would’ve wanted to spend more time with Steve, though. Must be hard for him to watch Steve go to work almost every day and have to wait for him to come home.”

“Hm,” Clint says, sounding as if he’s contemplating something. But he doesn’t speak, and eventually Phil falls asleep and forgets. 

*** 

Of course it’s going to come up again. 

Of course Tony’s going to bring it up again. 

“All I’m saying,” Tony’s saying as Phil and Clint enter the room, “is that I’d put you on my books if you wanted, get you taught how to work with some of the stuff properly.”

Bucky, looking at Tony across a coffee table of dismantled technology, just shrugs. “I don’t need it,” he says, nodding in greeting as Clint and Phil sit down on the couch beside him, across from Bruce who’s idly tapping at his tablet. “Steve makes a hell of a lot from SHIELD, and we’re both used to being broke. Don’t know what we’d do with all the cash.” 

“It’s not about the cash.”

“Then what’s it about? Is there some rule about me not hanging out in there if I’m not an employee?”

“Nope,” Bruce says without looking up. “I’m not on the books. Unless you count free board and food as my pay,” he adds after a second.

“Oh,” Bucky says, “is that -“

“No, I’m not making you work for your keep,” Tony says, sighing in exasperation. “Just thought you might like a bit of, I dunno, official standing. Give you some purpose and shit.” 

Bucky frowns. “Purpose?” 

The tension has risen without anybody quite being aware of it. Clint tightens his hold on Phil’s hand, and Bruce sets down his tablet. Tony glances at them all, then sighs again. “I’m just saying, all you seem to do is wander around. If you want a job, I can give you one.”

“Oh,” Bucky says again, this time in realization. “I see.” 

“So?”

Bucky shakes his head. ”I'm Steve's," he says. 

"We know that,” Tony says slowly. “But that doesn't stop you from finding work does it?"

Bucky nods. "I'm Steve's," he says insistently. 

"Oh," Phil says softly as he finally understands. "You're kept, aren't you?"

The look Bucky shoots him is almost fearful, but he nods. "Yeah," he murmurs. "Old fashioned way."

"You're a service sub?" Tony asks. 

"Uh-huh," Bucky says, looking even smaller. 

"That's pretty rare these days," Bruce says. "Nothing wrong with it, of course, but I haven't met many kept subs." 

"To be fair, most subs you meet are SHIELD operatives or Stark employees," Phil points out, and Bruce nods in agreement. "I've met a few who were kept by some of my agents. They seemed pretty happy."

"What, you thought they wouldn't be?" Bucky asks with sudden heat. Phil looks at him, shocked, and Bucky visibly shrinks away. "Shit. Sorry. Sorry, I didn't - I'm -"

"Bucky?" Clint asks. He's very carefully not using his Dom voice, but it’s clear to everybody that he’s prepared to turn protective in an instant if Bucky lashes out at Phil again. "What's wrong?"

Bucky shakes his head and stands up fast. "No. Can't -"

Bucky runs, slamming past Steve in the doorway who stops, turns to stare at him, then looks back into the room with terrifying calm. "Who upset him?" he asks.  

"Um," Phil says quietly, "I think it was me?"  

Phil's already headed to the door, and his confusion is enough that Steve doesn't stop him, just follows him out. "What happened?" 

"We learned that he’s kept. Nobody reacted badly - there was some surprise, yes, but not negative." 

"Then why -?"

They stop in their tracks when, "Because Phil's fucking perfect is why!" echoes down the hall. 

They enter one of the living rooms to find Bucky curled up around a cushion, looking angry and defiant and miserable. Phil stays back as Steve goes to him, crouching in front of Bucky with clear worry. "Baby, what's going on?"

"I'm useless," Bucky whimpers. "I've already caused so much trouble for so many people, and now I don't even want to work for my keep and - and Phil does. Phil ranks even higher than me and he still works and works a damn good job and comes home and is such a good sub, Clint says it all the time how good he is and I'm - I'm not. I'm not a good boy and I'm not an independent sub and you need to find someone better, Steve -" 

"Oh, shut your mouth," Steve says firmly. "Bucky, I love you, okay? Couldn't love you more, and I'm so proud of you. If you want to be kept, then I'll keep you, however you want to be. You aren't trouble - you're my good boy who's always waiting with a meal on the table when I get home, and there's no shame in that. That's how you want to be, and I love that you do that for me."  

"But Phil -"

"You are not in competition with Phil," Steve says and, shit, that sounds like it's been said more than once. Phil’s starting to get very worried.

Bucky sniffs. "He's the poster boy for independent subs and the goddamn Avengers Liaison and he ranks higher than me. And all I want to do is - is nothing!” 

“Being mine is nothing, is it?” Steve asks. 

Phil tenses, waiting for some kind of explosion or meltdown (shit, he’d probably burst into tears if Clint hit him with something like that), but Bucky just raises an eyebrow. “Fuck you, Stevie, you know being yours is everything. And that’s the point; am I not a fucking disgrace of a submissive? I’m Captain America’s sub -“ 

“You’re Steve Rogers’ sub, thank you very much.” 

Bucky sighs. “Steve -“ 

“I’m not going here, Buck. The only person you need to worry about impressing or pleasing is me, and you know I’m pretty easy to please. All I want you to do is be mine, be good, and be who you want to be - and be _Bucky_. You are not Phil. Don’t try to be Phil.” Steve glances up. “Um, no offence, Phil.”

“None taken,” Phil says with a smile. “I’m seriously nothing to compete with, Bucky.”

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Bucky says. “Everybody talks about how badass you are, and you rank _higher_ than me. You are serious competition.”

“For what, though?” Phil asks, because this is what he genuinely doesn’t get. “For Steve? I don’t want Steve - no offence, Steve. But what’s the competition, Bucky?”

“You’re a better sub, is all,” Bucky says. “You do such a good neutral and people love you and respect the hell out of you and you’re independent and all the things that you’re supposed to be these days to be a good sub. I can do independent but I don’t want to, and that isn’t cool anymore. I’m all for subs rights, but it’s just kinda hard when you don't fit the figure anymore and there’s someone right there who is basically everything that the rights movements fights for. I feel like I should be more… more _modern_ , like you.” 

Phil actually can’t help but laugh. “Modern? Me? I call Clint _master_.”

Bucky blinks. “You do?”

 “Uh-huh. When the team offered to collar me, I insisted on the formal rites of rejection and a proper collaring ceremony, even though none of it was necessary, because it’s ingrained into me that that’s how these things are done. There are plenty of Alpha Doms in SHIELD and I have to fight the urge to bare my neck any time they walk past. The first time Clint called me a good boy, I nearly burst into tears. I could go on. I'm one of the most old-fashioned subs I know, and despite all this portraying neutral and being independent, absolutely one of the subbiest. Do you know what the difference is between us, Bucky?"

"You're better than I am?"

Phil sighs. "When you were younger, you met Steve. And Steve told you that your rank was nothing to be ashamed of. He took you in and made you his and you learned that it's okay to want what you want. You got to belong to someone who was happy to keep you in the manner you wished to be kept. He let you fight alongside him one day and kneel at his feet at a formal dinner the next. If you had a desire to prove yourself, you got it. If you just wanted to be his, you got that. And a lot of shit has gone down since then, I know, but those things were taught to you and they've stuck. You know how you want to be kept, and Steve will give that to you - and that’s your independence. You independently choose how you want to be Steve’s. That's wonderful."

Bucky's looking at him with less guarded, more curious eyes. "What did you have?"

"The understanding that the world would not be kind to me, but if I fought hard enough, it would have to respect me. I decided early that nobody wanted me, so I suppressed everything that might have made me appealing to a Dom, threw myself into work, and accepted that this was the life I had. I lost so many years, so many chances to just be a submissive. I don't regret my career, I'm proud of how far I've come and how many stereotypes I defied - but god, somedays I wish I could be kept. And I wish I were brave enough to be kept."

"Brave?"

"You're trusting everything to Steve. Everything. I love Clint and I trust the hell out of him, but I have backups. It's in my nature to. If he kicked me to the kerb tonight, I would have a place to go and ways to get the things I needed. I don't think he'd do that for a second, but I still wouldn't be without those backups. You've given Steve everything and trusted that he won't let you fall." 

"He won't," Bucky says with such simple, beautiful trust. 

"And that's why Steve loves you exactly as you are. Steve doesn't want me - god does he not want me, has he told you the story of the first time we met?" Bucky shakes his head, and Steve's smirking. "Don't ask him," Phil says. "Please. Point is, Steve wants you and only you, and while I'm sure he has nothing against me... apart from aforementioned story anyway. But he doesn't compare you to me. He's not wishing you weren't kept, because he wouldn't keep you if he didn't want you. Steve wants you."

"Do you wish I were more like Clint?" Steve asks. 

"No. Why would I - you're perfect as you are."

"Pot, kettle, black."

Bucky laughs, and Phil stands, smiling. "I think I'll leave you two to it," he says. "Clint's probably waiting."

"Clint's in the doorway," Bucky says. "Has been the whole time." 

Phil turns. Clint is indeed in the doorway, and he looks sad. Phil immediately crosses to his side, looking at him. "Clint?" 

Clint smiles, but there's still sadness there. "You all done?"

"Yeah. What -?"

"Can I take you upstairs?"

And Phil feels his heart sink because shit, fuck, Clint's been listening, Clint's heard him say that he doesn't trust him enough to be kept, _shit._ He lowers his head and bites his lip. "I'm sorry."

"What?" Clint puts an arm around him and tucks his other hand under Phil's chin, lifting his head. "Why are you sorry, sweet boy?"

"Not trusting you enough."

"What?" Clint says again. "Phil, honey, you trust me. I know that." 

"Not enough to be kept." 

Clint stares at him for a moment, then actually laughs. "Sweetheart, you just spent all that time telling Bucky not to be sorry that he wants to be kept because Steve loves him just as he is. You think the same doesn't apply to you? I want you exactly as you are, as long as who you are is happy."

"Then why are you sad?"

"Because it always makes me a bit sad to think about my sweet boy going through all those years not being cherished and adored and loved like he deserved to be." 

"Clint," Phil says softly, and he can feel himself blushing. "Don't. It's okay. You more than make up for it.” 

And while that isn’t true on many levels - just like Phil’s love can never make up for the lack of family Clint had growing up - it’s enough. Clint lets go of him, taking Phil’s hand instead. “C’mon, let’s go. Those two need to get a room and if we leave, they’ll have one.”

“They’re making out, aren’t they?” Phil says without looking back. 

“Vigorously,” Clint confirms, and shuts the door behind them.

*** 

Curled up on the couch later that night, Clint draws him close. "If you ever want to be kept, sweetheart, you just tell me," he says. "You've got money in the bank, Tony would be more likely to kick me out than you if things went bad, and SHIELD would take you back in an instant if you changed your mind. I wouldn't take any backups from you."

"Are you saying you want me to be kept?"

"I'm saying that I want you happy, and I want you to know that you have options. You're mine however you want to be, and I'll walk through fire to give you what you want. Kept or independent or anywhere in between - as long as you're happy."  

Phil gets distracted in kissing him for awhile. "Sometimes I want it," he admits eventually. "I love the idea of being here waiting when you get home, being able to take away the stresses of my life and focus on serving you. But you and I know exactly what would happen - I'd last the first day, then I'd spend the second carefully interrogating you on everything SHIELD's doing, the third hacking the systems to check up on all the ops and new recruits, and the fourth hanging around SHIELD until someone took pity on me and gave me my job back. I barely handle a few days of stand-down if I'm not kept in the loop."  

Clint laughs. "Oh, honey, I know. I don't think you'd handle it either - but if that ever changes, the offer remains open. Otherwise I'll just wait for you to retire."

Phil's eyes narrow. "Is that a dig at my age?"

"Just pointing out the obvious," Clint agrees cheerfully. "I'll have a good seven or so years on you left in the field while you're stuck at home getting old."

"And people wonder why I don't brat - you're bratty enough for the both of us." 

Clint laughs and Phil kisses him and neither of them point out the sheer improbability of either of them retiring because of old age. Phil carefully doesn't think about the fact that growing old with Clint is a luxury he probably won't get. That he considers the two of them going out together in a blaze of glory as the best option is something Phil doesn't share with Clint. They don't talk about death, apart from one quick and stilted conversation at the start where provisions were made for the event of either of their deaths. It’s an inevitable eventuality, and probably much closer than Phil would like, and it does him no good to dwell on it.

“No wonder Steve’s always so happy to be going home,” Clint says after a few quiet moments of kissing, and Phil raises an inquiring eyebrow. “A home-cooked meal every night. Now that’s the dream.”

“There are ways of making that happen,” Phil says.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You know where the oven is.” Clint pulls a truly impressive face, and Phil laughs. “Or you find another sub,” he adds.

“Mm…. no. Not ever gonna happen.” 

Phil smiles softly. “So I’m worth more than a home-cooked meal then?” 

“More than a thousand, baby.”

Phil kisses him again, content in the knowledge that he’s loved and wanted just as he is - and content in the knowledge that Bucky is just as loved and wanted by his own Dom, no matter how different their lives are. Happiness comes in many different forms, after all.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Bruce. Who, just to be different, actually isn't going to stir up any drama.


	6. Bruce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He waves a dismissive hand, and Phil frowns. “That’s very final,” he says. “You’re done with dating?”
> 
> “Probably,” Bruce says, sounding entirely unfazed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after events that haven’t happened yet - there’ll be a mention of them in this chapter, so if you’re reading and wondering what you missed, that’s why :) I just really like Bruce Banner, and I didn’t want to give him any strife or upset (and I also wanted to bring in the beginnings of my favourite headcanon/ship for him).

Phil is pretty sure he's actually radiating steam as he strides into the workroom JARVIS has directed him to. "Hi," he says as two people turn to look at him. "I'll apologise later," he continues as he reaches Clint's side, drops to his knees with an audible smack, and presses his forehead to Clint's thigh. 

Clint's hand is on the back of his neck a moment later, a reassuring weight. "Is there anything you need other than this?" he asks. 

Bruce softly clears his throat. "Should I go?" he murmurs to Clint. 

"No," Phil says. "To both. Just - keep talking. I don't want to interrupt."

"Okay," Clint says, rubbing his thumb over Phil’s collar. "You just let me know if that changes."

Phil nods without looking up, and Clint, keeping his hand in place, returns to his conversation. It's something to do with their latest mission but Phil tunes it out, doesn't really care right now. Right now he needs to focus on settling down, breathing nice and calm, and not punching anybody. 

Thankfully it doesn't take too long. Being grounded here, close to the ground, with Clint holding him steady, Phil easily shifts to the calm, almost soft headspace that comes from being put in his place. His anger is quietly burning away - it's just residual anyway, left over from a long and stupidly frustrating day that is now, thank god, over. Sometimes working for SHIELD is amazing - being out in the field, working with seriously talented agents, and feeling like there's actual good being done. And other times, it's like smacking his head against a brick wall as Phil tries to navigate politics and deal with people who only see in black and white. SHIELD is made of people who live in grey, and it's very hard to handle those who not only can't understand, but won't even try. 

Especially when those people are high level politicians. 

But it's over now. Phil bleeds the tension out of his shoulders, leaning against Clint who responds to his body language, sliding his hand up to Phil's hair now that it's no longer needed in place to calm him down. Phil smiles as Clint scritches just right behind his ear, closes his eyes, and relaxes for a few minutes.  

When there's a lull in the conversation, Phil lifts his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I just hate people sometimes," he says. 

"They're the worst," Clint agrees, smiling softly at him. Phil can't help but return it, and Clint's smile grows. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah. Um, if you get a call about your sub calling some important foreign member of parliament a colossal dickhead..."

Clint laughs in delight. "I'll tell them he's my good boy," he says, and leans down to press a quick kiss to Phil's forehead. "Important question now - how are your knees?"

Phil chuckles. "I'm sure they'll forgive me," he says. 

"One of these days we'll be one of those couples in ER with dislocated knees from dangerous kneeling."

"I doubt it. SHIELD wouldn't let us go into the public system." 

Clint, grinning, holds out his hands and Phil pulls himself to his feet. "Need to go upstairs?" Clint asks, sobering a little. Of course he knows Phil well enough to know this is just Phil blowing off steam and nothing truly serious, but Phil knows him well enough to know that Clint would feel remiss if he didn't check anyway. 

Phil shakes his head and sits down next to him. "That would be rather rude," he says. "Ruder than I've been anyway."

He turns to look at Bruce, who calmly raises an eyebrow. "I hope you're not planning on apologising to me," he says. 

Phil shrugs. "Seems like the polite thing to do."

Bruce shakes his head. "There's no shame in subbing, and I'm glad you're not letting the years of concealing your status stop you from asking for what you need.”

Phil can’t help but feel suddenly shy, and Clint grins at him, putting an arm around his shoulders. “I’m glad too,” he says to Bruce. “He’s good at asking - and _very_ good at begging.”

The moment is definitely broken. Phil glares and Bruce laughs. “Moving right along,” Phil says. “I will apologise for interrupting - were you talking about anything important?”

“Our publicity stunt last week.” Phil pulls a face and Clint makes one back. “Yeah, I know, better not to think about it. But Bruce has been running stats to make sure we got enough good publicity that we never have to do that again.”

“I wouldn’t say never,” Bruce says. “But the public relations bank is pretty full right now, and that’s even with the accidental destruction of that near-priceless art exhibit two weeks ago.”

“Did Tony make his public apology for that yet?”

“Pepper’s still writing it for him.” Phil rolls his eyes and Bruce chuckles. “Anyway, the numbers are good - which is ridiculous, I have to say. The fact that you four can go out for dinner and do more for the Avengers rep than saving countless lives does…”

“Believe me, we’re with you on that,” Clint says, Phil nodding. “Phil is worth so much more than how well he kneels.”

“And Clint is a _much_ better marksman than social figure.”

Clint shoulders him lightly. “Brat,” he says, smiling, and Phil smirks.

Bruce is watching them both, smiling too. “Most of those articles had pictures,” he says. “But looking at you two, you’d hardly recognise yourselves in those.” 

“Did we look uncomfortable?” Phil asks. He hasn’t looked, and has no intention of doing so. 

“Not so much. More… perfect.” 

Clint nods in understanding. “Public faces,” he says. “But not the good kind.”

“What’s the good kind of public face?”

“Work faces,” Clint explains. “At work, I’m professional, but I’m still me, just me without my personal life influencing me. So I act by the same moral code and by the same values, and treat most people as I normally would anyway - except Phil. But in public, there’s a status to be living up to, and I have to give the impression that I’m that person, even if I’m not. Obviously I wouldn’t do things like smacking Phil around because people expected that of me, but I still don’t feel like me when I’m out there like that.”

Phil nods. “I’m the same. And public face is exhausting.”

“Isn’t public face closer to your natural self than your work face?” Bruce asks.

Phil smiles. “Nope,” he says. “People always think that, but it’s the same as Clint said - I’m still me at work, just without my personal life attached. Don’t look at how I am with Clint when you think of my personal life; look at how I am with, say, Tony, or Natasha. I’m still - I’d like to think, anyway - friendly, pretty good at listening, and far too outspoken and headstrong.”

Clint laughs. “That’s definitely the truth.”

Phil gives him a look, tinged with laughter, then looks at Bruce. “I’m glad we looked perfect in the photos,” he says, “but I’m so glad we’re not actually perfect.”

“You look much happier this way,” Bruce agrees. “And it’s interesting to hear about it - it’s not something I’ve ever had to do. When I was dating, it was long before all of this, and now -“ 

He waves a dismissive hand, and Phil frowns. “That’s very final,” he says. “You’re done with dating?” 

“Probably,” Bruce says, sounding entirely unfazed. “I’m certainly not looking.”

“Not looking for a sub in any capacity?” Clint asks, then pauses. “If that’s too personal -“

“I think we’ve all crossed much greater lines than that,” Bruce says with a smile. “No, I’m not. I’ve had a few club experiences over the years, and they’ve been… well, just _okay_. Nothing to write home about. When it comes to sex, to be honest, I don’t honestly need that much of it.” He shrugs, looking between them both. "I'm lucky to be where I am in life right now. I'm satisfied."

"But your Dom drive?"

Bruce smiles. "The big guy is plenty dominant enough for both of us. I think he uses it up in aggression. And to be honest, I'd be just as happy with some vanilla company as I would with a scene. Some things are easier when you're both on the same level." 

"Like keeping control?" Phil asks tentatively. 

"Not really," Bruce says with a shrug. "I'm already very good at control, after all. In fact, that's probably where it lies - I have to keep myself in control all the time. When I want some relaxation and some personal time, I don't want to feel like I'm keeping even more of a lid on myself. I want to let loose; in the same way you both let loose by fulfilling your status obligations." 

"So something like what Tony and Pepper have would suit you."

"Exactly what they have," Bruce says, and his words are just a little too quick, and a lot too meaningful.

Phil blinks, then laughs. "Oh, okay," he says. "One in particular, or both?"

Bruce glares, but it's very half-hearted. "Let's just say I have my reasons for enjoying the company of both of them, and neither of you are going to say a word of this to anybody, let alone them."  

Clint salutes, smirking his heart out. "Lips sealed," he says, "and I'll put Phil under order if you like."

He's joking and they both know it. "I won't tell," Phil says. “Nobody would believe me anyway - Pepper maybe, but Tony?" 

Bruce laughs, shrugging a bit. “I never said my reasons were logical.”

“Love never is,” Clint says, side-eyeing Phil. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” Phil says, pushing back his chair, “I’m off to shower, eat, and be very insulted.” 

“Aw, baby, don’t be like that,” Clint calls after him. Phil makes an obscene gesture over his shoulder and hears Clint and Bruce both laugh, before returning to their conversation. 

Smiling, Phil leaves. He knows Clint will make it up to him later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Pepper. Who just really has a soft spot for Phil and likes seeing him so happy.


	7. Pepper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unguarded is the word that comes to mind. And it's such a lovely word, especially for a man who Pepper knows has guarded his heart for a long time now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid I'm not up with a lot of things about Pepper, other than that she's a total badass and beautiful human being and runs everything for Tony. So that's the Pepper I wrote.

Sometimes it's easy for everybody to forget that Pepper lives in the tower. And that everybody includes Pepper herself.  

She's the busiest, nobody can deny that. She runs everything that Tony has his name attached to, which also leads her to running a lot of the non-crisis related events around the Avengers too. Half of her life is spent travelling places to talk to people, and the other half is travelling home so she can snatch a few hours of sleep before leaving again. It's hectic and she loves it and the only person who comes close to understanding is Phil, who manages all the rest of the Avengers-related needs. But even he gets more evenings at home than Pepper - and he's an active SHIELD agent. 

So since Pepper's out a lot, she misses a lot of what goes on in the tower. She always makes sure she's kept up to date on the pertinent issues surrounding the Avengers - and usually all that takes is switching on any major news network - and of course has JARVIS loop her in if Tony gets up to anything he shouldn't, but otherwise she relies on the gossip grapevine on the times she actually gets to be at the tower to just relax. And the gossip grapevine - usually Natasha - always serves her well, and never ceases to surprise her. 

Like, for example, showing up to see whether Phil had chosen someone to pretend to collar him, and finding out that Clint had taken him as his sub, properly and lovingly, and with no pretence whatsoever. 

That had been an interesting day. 

The collaring has been described to her by just about everybody - the sudden, shocking intimacy of the moment, and how clear it was to everybody present that things were about to change. Nobody had been surprised by the announcement the following day, or the immediate and obvious growth of the relationship. She's missed most of those changes, too, but what she sees every time she is there is enough to make it clear that this is real. The comfort and affection the two show around each other - and how they've begun showing that to others too - is obvious.

It's also ridiculously sweet. Pepper's only seen Phil actively submitting a handful of times, and what she has seen has pleased her. Clint seems to be a fair Dom, concerned far more about Phil's wellbeing and happiness than how Phil 'should' be acting; Phil has a perfectly adorable eagerness to be the best he can be and make Clint proud.  

Personally, Pepper's always thought they were good for each other. On a professional level, they've been invaluable to one another in the field, always making the best team and getting the job done when others couldn't. As friends, they've given each other a steadfast and solid support that neither one seems to really have had. 

And now, as partners, that support can only grow. 

They're both very private by nature, so Pepper understands that she's not going to see much more than the few glimpses of their personal life that she's already seen - Phil serving Clint dinner, quiet murmured orders and words of praise, and the ever present pet names. So it's a surprise indeed when she walks past the theatre room late one Friday night, pauses when she hears the opening to _The Sound of Music_ (it's one of her all-time favourites, she can't resist), and spots the two of them. Not that seeing them around the place isn't normal, but it's how she's seeing them that is completely new. 

Now that there are honest-to-god subs living with them, Tony hasn't held back on furnishing the common areas with everything that could possibly be needed or wanted by either of the two couples. As usual, he's gone completely overboard - to her delight, Pepper had been there for the wonderfully humorous moment when Bruce located a ball gag down the side of the couch and Clint and Steve had both had to protest their innocence - but some touches seem to be just right, as Pepper is evidencing in the truly enormous floor cushion next to Clint's feet that Phil is currently curled up on. He's got one arm loosely wrapped around Clint's leg, and his head on Clint's knee. He looks so... _content_ , so soft and sweet and happy in a way that Pepper has never witnessed from him before. Phil's always been a sweetheart, of course, but usually he's wrapped up in a suit and a general air of competence and control. 

Unguarded is the word that comes to mind. And it's such a lovely word, especially for a man who Pepper knows has guarded his heart for a long time now. 

Pepper knows her shoes have given her away - and the two in there are two of the highest trained agents SHIELD's got, they'd hear her coming anyway - so can only presume that being seen as they are isn't an issue. Still, she hesitates in the doorway for a moment until Phil looks up, smiling at her. "Hey, Pepper," he says as Clint pauses the movie. "Coming to join us?"

"Would you mind? It's one of my favourites."

"Pull up a seat," Clint says, gesturing with the remote. His other hand is idly petting Phil's hair, occasionally stroking down his neck to Phil's collar. "A classic like this is worth sharing, and I'll need someone to talk to about it when Phil falls asleep halfway through." 

Pepper slips off her shoes and takes a seat on the other couch. "Phil's not a fan?"

"Oh, he is, but he's tired."

"Mm," Phil agrees with a nod. "Long week." 

"Told him to go to bed," Clint says, smiling softly, "but someone's feeling stubborn tonight." 

Phil yawns. "Forgive me for wanting to be close to you," he says. 

Clint looks down at Phil with such fondness, and that's beautiful to see too - because if Phil's been guarded, Clint has been Fort Knox. Strong emotions have always been rare from him, especially ones that put him at risk of vulnerability. Even at his most relaxed, Clint has never quite looked this at peace. "I also told you we could watch it in bed," he says.

Phil waves a hand at the screen. "Big TV."

"Yes, sweet boy, it is," Clint says, smirking a little, and Phil rolls his eyes. "Sorry, Pepper," Clint continues, glancing up at her. "You came in here to watch a movie."

"I'll watch whatever show's on," she teases lightly, and Phil snorts, before settling in more comfortably against Clint. 

Clint just smiles, and hits play. 

For the next little while, Pepper forgets about the others in the room, engrossed in the movie. It's only when it hits a quieter point that she glances back over - and then she can't look away, because Phil's now fast asleep, still leaning against Clint's leg, and he's _adorable_. Clint's hand is on his back, holding him steady, and Clint's looking at him too, clearly deliberating whether to wake him up or not.  

"I'm sure he's slept in worse conditions," Pepper murmurs.  

Clint looks up and nods, smiling softly. "Fair point," he says. "And he chose this. Emotional comfort over physical, and who am I to say no?"

It's a stupid question - he's Phil's Dom, the only person who could say no, who could veto that kind of call and make sure Phil makes the right decisions for himself. But Pepper knows that Clint will always trust Phil to make those calls unless he isn't capable of doing so. And Phil does look calm and relaxed, clearly getting what he needs even in sleep. 

"How is he as a sub?" Pepper can't help but ask. She's always been a little curious about what Phil's truly like when he lets himself relax and be who he needs to be. 

Clint smiles. "Imagine the most innocent newbie, filled with optimism and the desire to make their Dom so proud of them; combine that with the experienced sub who knows just what he wants and what makes him happy; and add in Phil Coulson's natural adorableness and kind nature, with all that concealed firepower and strength. He's fascinating, challenging, and so, so sweet. I've struck the actual jackpot."

Pepper looks down at Phil. "So has he," she says quietly. 

When she looks up, Clint's refusing to meet her eyes, and he's blushing. "I'd like to think he's done okay," he mutters - and that's the same Clint as ever; completely unable to accept a compliment. 

Smiling, Pepper turns back to the movie. 

They don't speak again until the end, when Pepper's finished wiping away a few covert tears and Clint's switched off the TV. "It's always good to see you, Pepper," Clint says. "You should be a bit less busy and hang out more often - but then I know there's no point in saying that to you paperwork-y people."

Pepper laughs, glancing down at Phil. "He doesn't switch off either?"

"He's much better at it now," Clint says, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Pepper rolls her eyes. "I bet he is. And I bet you're better about submitting paperwork on time too."

"He pouts if it isn't done," Clint complains. "Big wide eyes and everything. It's the only time he lets work and home blur and it's completely unfair." 

"And you let him get away with it." 

"Of course. Phil gets away with everything."

"Though I doubt he does much that needs getting away with?" 

Clint smiles. "No, he doesn't. He behaves because that's what he wants, and I don't enforce things for the sake of enforcing."

"I always wondered what kind of Dom would suit him best," Pepper says thoughtfully. "Whether he'd need strict routine, or someone to just let go around."

"Both," Clint says, and doesn't elaborate. 

Pepper doesn't ask - it's not her business. "Well, I'm glad he's happy," is all she says. 

Smiling, Clint slips off the couch and crouches next to Phil, gently shaking his shoulder. "Hey, beautiful," he murmurs when Phil stirs. 

Phil sighs sleepily. "Don't wanna."

"I know, sweet boy, but you're not sleeping on the theatre room floor all night, no matter how comfortable that cushion is."

"I don't mind."

"I do. Up you get." Phil obeys, grumbling quietly, and Clint kisses his cheek when he's upright. "Good boy," he murmurs, and all of Phil's resistance is wiped away. "Think you can walk?" 

"Course I can. Is Pepper looking at me with that smile that means she thinks I'm cute?"

"She is," Clint says without bothering to look - and he's right, anyway. "You are cute, sweetheart."

"But I'm a big brave SHIELD agent."

Clint laughs. "Of course you are," he teases. 

Phil raises an eyebrow and makes a hand gesture that Pepper doesn't quite catch. Clint immediately tenses, eyes flitting around the room - then sighs and relaxes again. "Goddamnit, don't do that," he says. 

Phil smirks. "Still got it," he says, then yawns. 

"What was that?" Pepper has to ask. 

"The mission sign for _there's something wrong with this situation and we have about three seconds to figure it out or we're all dead_."

"That comes up enough that it needs its own sign?"

"You have no idea," Clint says with feeling. "And trust me, Phil always knows. I get the weird, unsubstantiated feelings about things that are usually right, but Phil can tell within a second of entering a room if something isn't as it should be, and he's always right. And that's why I immediately react to it - and why he shouldn't use it when we're off duty or else I'm gonna start calling him boss."

Phil pulls a face. "I'll be good," he says. 

"Because you're my good boy," Clint says, putting an arm around him. "Ready to go to bed?"

"Uh-huh," Phil says, leaning into Clint with a quiet little sigh that makes Pepper's heart ache in a good way. It's not just sleepiness that's making Phil soft and sweet; Pepper hasn't had a sub in quite a few years now, but she still remembers how it felt to take them down to that place where everything feels good and easy and they have nothing to worry about. 

Phil's clearly there, and one look at Clint shows exactly how he feels about his sub right now. "C'mon then, beautiful," he murmurs, and guides Phil to the door. 

"Night, Pepper," Phil murmurs. 

"Goodnight, boys," Pepper says, watching them go with a smile. She gives them a few minutes head start, then picks up her shoes and goes to find whichever lab Tony is working in tonight. 

Pepper has enough dirt on every single member of the World Security Council to make them do just about anything she asks; tonight has only reinforced her belief that she made the right decision in staying quiet and letting events play out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Well, there's only one person left - and it's fair to say that Phil has had the biggest impact on his life over anybody else's.


	8. Clint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is home, Clint realises, sudden and sure. This is his home, and this is the rest of his life. These things are certain if nothing else is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As new trailers get released and the Marvel world continue to grow, I like to look back and see just how far this series has deviated from canon. The answer is a lot. Anyway, here's mushy Clint being a total sap over his sub.

So this whole making a home shit is actually far less overrated than Clint had thought.

He's never had a home, that's the thing. He's gone from foster care to the circus, then years on the run. His first, and current, foray into gainful employment hadn't really enabled him to settle down either - Clint began in SHIELD barracks, then shifting through a series of cheap flats, spending more time in various safe houses than in his actual residence and usually getting kicked out for failing to renew his lease on time. It wasn't until Tony opened the tower to them (coinciding with yet another lease expiration) that Clint actually found himself in a place that felt like it might be stable, and understood what it was like to actually put down a few roots.

So yes, this is his home, and it's been so for a few years now. He's got a nice set of rooms that haven't been destroyed, with a functional kitchen and actual utilities and electronics. But in his efforts to make sure everybody has their own space and freedom, Tony's given Clint the one thing that's always made it so easy to flit from place to place with no emotional attachment.

Loneliness.

Because yeah, Clint likes his alone time as much as anybody else, especially after a frustrating day, but he also likes people. He loves hanging out, casual conversation, laughter, and just being with other people. It's one of the main reasons he's stuck with SHIELD - Phil's treated him like a person from the beginning, and others have slowly come to do the same. Companionship is important to Clint, and sometimes having an entire apartment or floor to himself is just too isolating.

But it's been okay, because Tony also has heaps of communal and shared areas, and Clint's always been able to find at least one other person looking for company when he's needed it. The team have become family - but for a long time, thinking of home brought an image of the communal kitchen or theatre room, not his own floor. The tower has become home, yes, but his rooms seemed doomed to suffer the same fate as the rest, to be used only for sleep and occasional relaxation.

That was, until Phil came along.

And it's not about Phil being his sub and therefore being domesticated and always having a meal on the table for Clint and the apartment spotless when he gets home from a long day at work - because that doesn't usually happen. More often than not, Phil is also returning home, often from an even longer and more frustrating day, and the most they can manage is takeout and one of them making sure the cartons get to the bin. But even that feels more like home than most of Clint's life has been to date - and a lot of Clint's life to date has involved takeout. Takeout with Phil is just... different.

Life with Phil is different.

A huge part of it, Clint knows, is his Dom instincts wanting to provide for his sub. Clint doesn't buy into all of it, as evidenced by Phil being an independent sub classed neutral in public and Clint's boss to boot, but something about providing a home for Phil does a lot for making him feel like a good Dom. It's his role - so the books and movies and primal urges say - to give his sub a home, to put a roof over his head and keep him fed, and Clint really does feel satisfied by doing just that.

(The fact that Phil earns way more than Clint is just semantics.)

Another large part is almost certainly down to Clint's fucked up past. He's had no roots, no stability, and no hope of a family. He still doesn't in the traditional sense - bringing kids into his life as it is is just cruelty defined - but he's got a tentative extended family in the Avengers, and a life partner in Phil, and if most of it isn't traditional, well, that's just Clint's life being true to form. For the first time, he has a place where he's wanted - not as a tool or a gimmick or a weapon, but as a person. The fact that Phil, so strong and independent and beautiful, has given his life and heart to Clint is still mind blowing, and Clint is still waiting for the catch, the part where someone figures out he doesn't actually deserve this and takes it all away.

It hasn't happened yet. And Clint is starting to believe that Phil really would fight tooth and nail to stay right where he is.

Not that Clint sees why, wrinkling his nose as he follows Phil into the kitchen. There's still the dishwasher to be unloaded from last night and breakfast dishes to clean up and, surprise surprise, no food. If nothing else, Clint expected Phil to run for the hills months ago to get away from the absolute lack of homemaking skills Clint possesses.

Instead, Phil just surveys the kitchen, then opens the dishwasher and sets to work. He's been at work for close to ten hours, wrapping up an op and filing stacks of paperwork, and he must be tired. Clint frowns. "Leave it," he says. "It'll keep."

Phil, a mug in each hand, glances over. "Is that an order?" he asks.

Clint absorbs that, then smiles and shakes his head. "No, baby, just a suggestion. You do what makes you happy."

Phil nods, and returns to the job. Clint leaves him to it, settling in the living room with the TV on low, feeling stupidly warm and content as he hears the sounds of his sub tidying.

Okay, so sometimes it's about Phil being domestic. But only when Phil takes personal comfort and satisfaction from domestic service, as he is right now. Sometimes something like cleaning is just the right thing to end a long day, Clint's learned, and to tell Phil not to do it would actually stress him out more. So Clint trusts Phil that he's doing what's right for him, checks in on occasion, and lets him be.

And really, that sums up Clint's domination style - to let his sub figure out what they want, and to be there if they can't. It might seem lazy to some, but it really does work; at least with Phil, anyway. Phil knows what he wants, and a lot of the time what he wants is for Clint to tell him what to do, which Clint is always happy to do. There are rules, of course - Phil can't just break those because he feels like it - but those are, again, all designed around what makes Phil happy. Clint's happiness is, of course, factored in, but his happiness usually comes down to seeing Phil happy and knowing he's safe and provided for and loved.

Speaking of provided for -

"What do you want for dinner?" Clint asks, swinging himself off the couch and back over to lean on the doorframe of the kitchen.

Phil, stacking the last of the plates, shrugs. "What haven't we had in awhile?"

"A home cooked meal?"

Phil laughs. "Is that a dig?" he asks cheerfully. "I'm sure Bucky would be happy to dish up a third helping."

"Yeah, because Steve would share his sub's incredible cooking," Clint says, smirking. "And no, not a dig. We've barely seen the inside of the house this week, let alone the grocery store."

Phil nods. "Thank god it's over."

Clint nods back with feeling. The op Phil's been heading up has been messy and complicated, and Clint's just glad that they didn't drag Phil out to the Middle East like Fury was threatening if the strike team didn't get their shit together. Phil's directed the op remotely, but it's still been long and exhausting and the more Clint thinks about it the more desperately he needs to do some taking care of Phil, whether Phil needs it or not. "Italian?" he suggests.

Phil's eyes light up. "Lasagne?"

"One huge tray of lasagne it is," Clint says, and ducks over to steal a kiss as he grabs the menu out of the drawer. "Kitchen looks great, sweetheart - come put your feet up when you're ready."

He leaves Phil smiling and goes to call in the order. Making sure Phil's smiling when he leaves the room has been one of Clint's goals right from when he was a cocky new recruit. He's pleased to say that he's much better at it these days.

But then, Phil is shockingly easy to please. Perhaps that comes from the fact that his own past has left his expectations as low as Clint's - and really, that hurts to think about, so Clint doesn't. He thinks instead about Phil's small, satisfied smile when he goes out of his way to do something for Clint, or the way he blushes at praise, and especially the pure contentment that rolls off him in waves when he's halfway to subspace and safe at Clint's feet. Whatever Phil might have missed out on up until now, Clint is doing his best to make up for by giving Phil all the reasons to smile he possibly can.

Their local Italian favourite is quick - by the time Phil emerges from the kitchen, Clint's coming back in with the order. Phil about-faces to pick up cutlery, and Clint, after considering the options, pulls over the coffee table and sets up dinner at the couch. They do eat at the table like grown ups most of the time, but sometimes Phil likes to sit at Clint's feet to eat, and Clint likes keeping their options open.

Phil doesn't choose the ground when he arrives, sitting down next to Clint and handing him a fork. The only fork, it turns out, and Clint looks at Phil for a moment, waiting. "Use your words, sweet boy," Clint finally says - he's pretty sure he knows what Phil wants, but Phil has a bit of a bad habit of trying to get away with Clint's assumptions instead of having to ask, and Clint's trying to put a stop to it.

Phil blushes slightly. "Will you feed me?" he asks.

And Phil is very rarely down for humiliation, and never outside the bedroom, so Clint doesn't make him beg. "Of course," he says, taking the fork. "But lasagne's messy. If I drip it on you, you can't get mad at me."

"And who are you to dictate my emotions?" Phil asks, looking amused.

"The man with the fork," Clint says, waving it around before forking up the first mouthful. "I don't have to share," he says, and eats the first bite.

"I do know where the forks are," Phil points out.

Clint sighs. "I'm just gonna have to shut you up if you keep spouting logic," he says, and holds a forkful out for Phil to eat.

After that, there's no chance of awkwardness. They banter between mouthfuls, playful and silly, and Phil's eyes are sparkling, happier than Clint's seen him in days. It's never easy to watch Phil get dragged under by work, but it's always a pleasure to bring him out the other side and give him simple moments like this to bring the happiness back. They've both gone quiet by the time the food is gone, but it's a contented quiet, filled with soft glances and smiles and a few stolen kisses. And when Phil leaves to get rid of the tray and fork, all of the tension has eased out of his shoulders, leaving him calm and at ease.

Clint watches him go with satisfaction, then considers the rest of the evening ahead. Sometimes after a long week, Clint sets up a light scene, focused solely on easing Phil down to subspace and taking the weight off. Other times the scene needs to be heavier, Phil needing to drown out some of the bad he's experienced, and Clint taking him where he needs to be as carefully as possible. But tonight Clint elects for nothing - they could play for the hell of it, since Phil's happy, but Phil's also tired and Clint would much rather wait until tomorrow when he's well rested. Tomorrow, Clint decides, will be a good day for four-point leather and the silky-soft blindfold that Phil has fallen in love with - and that Clint is just as in love with, because fuck does Phil look gorgeous bound and blindfolded for him...

"Thinking good thoughts?" Phil asks as he returns. Clint blinks, then allows his stupid-in-love smile to transform into a smirk. "Just thinking about what I'm going to do to you tomorrow," he says.

Phil swallows audibly as he sits down, and Clint grins. Phil spots it and rolls his eyes. "Yes, you caught me. It's a strongly kept secret, but I actually enjoy being dominated by you."

"Never would've guessed, baby," Clint says, slinging an arm around Phil's shoulders and brushing his hand over his collar. Phil shivers slightly and Clint's grin softens as he presses a kiss to Phil's forehead and changes the tone. The point of not having a scene tonight is about letting Phil stay level, not working him up with words and then not following through until much later.

(That's a whole other type of scene, and one they really need to revisit soon. Phil's secret love for delayed gratification is yet to be fully explored, and Clint is very much looking forward to that scene.)

"How do you want to spend the evening?" Clint asks, nudging the remote towards Phil. "I won't even complain if it's Lifestyle channel."

Phil chuckles and shakes his head. "Not tonight. Quiet night?"

"Suits me fine. Want to stay here?" Phil nods and shuffles closer, resting his head on Clint's shoulder and closing his eyes. Clint tightens his hold, then tips his head back and stares up at the ceiling, taking a few deep breaths as the room goes silent.

It might seem odd from the outside - the two of them sitting here, side by side, in perfect silence with no distractions or other tasks. But it works so well for rewinding after a long week, especially for Phil who sometimes just needs silence to sort his thoughts. Clint struggles with it a bit more - he clears his head best when the rest of his body is active - but having the soft, still weight of Phil at his side helps. When Phil is calm and at peace, Clint can relax a whole lot easier.

Clint doesn't have too many thoughts to work through - his week has involved mostly training and paperwork, and as much checking in on Phil as he could manage without becoming overbearing. So he lets his mind drift... straight back to the person by his side. Of course.

But having Phil on his mind has always been normal, because Phil has always been one of the best things about Clint's life, right back to when Phil first recruited him. He wasn't the first SHIELD agent that had attempted to win Clint over, but he ended up being the last - Phil looking him dead in the eye and promising that SHIELD would give him a future is a moment that Clint will always remember, because it was the first of many promises that Phil has made and kept. Phil was the first person Clint was able to take orders from, the first person he was able to sleep in the company of without any fear of what might happen, and the first person Clint ever considered a true friend. Being his superior has never stopped Phil from being friendly, and it's always been genuine, Phil seeming just as happy with the friendship when it formed as Clint was. He's been a constant - Phil has trained him, fought with him, watched his back, and trusted Clint to watch his.

And now Phil kneels at his feet and trusts Clint with far more than just his life.

Clint is still trying to come to terms with that, and will never stop wondering how he got so lucky.

Clint would absolutely be lying if he said he hadn't thought about dominating Phil before. He's always done his best to never see Phil the submissive, and treats all fellow agents as neutral or non-status unless otherwise required, but he's also not Hawkeye for nothing (especially when it comes to Phil Coulson, and especially over the past few years as his stupid crush continued to grow and he noticed every single thing Phil did). Phil has never acted as his status dictates at work, but the very slight lowering of his head as a high-ranked Dom walks by, or the subtle shift of posture and body language when someone in power tells him what to do, are unavoidable. And Clint's dominant desires responding to those actions are equally as unavoidable.

So yes, Clint had imagined Phil at his feet, Phil tied to his bed, Phil taking his orders, Phil wearing his collar. But more than that, he's imagined quiet nights in with Phil, soft quiet mornings waking up with Phil, relaxing at home after an op with Phil, and hearing Phil say he loves him. Yes, he's imagined submission, but never without intimacy. Clint has always wanted all of Phil.

And even now, Clint is finding that reality is exceeding his expectations so much further. Having all of Phil isn't just a privilege and a delight - it also feels _right_. Like he's exactly where he should be. The two of them, existing together in this space they can call their own, and making it somewhere to be happy to live in.

This is home, Clint realises, sudden and sure. This is his home, and this is the rest of his life. These things are certain if nothing else is - and one other thing is too; that Clint loves Phil with everything he has to give, and Phil doesn't hear that nearly as much as Clint feels it.

Turning to make good on his thoughts, Clint finds Phil already watching him, eyes soft and intense. "I love you," Phil says, and kisses him before Clint can even form a response.

They're always on the same page too. Clint has never been happier with his lot in life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next fic: Phil isn't the only one who has to deal with drop.


End file.
